Burn
by cassandraxstardust
Summary: Scorpius has somehow managed to break the stigma of the Malfoy name but his fellow students do not extend the same courtesy to his younger sister. Everyone at Hogwarts has already made their minds up about Theodora Malfoy. Her only ally is her fellow Slytherin, Albus Potter, who spends entirely too much time reminding her to be nicer to people, especially to his brother James.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first story since returning to fanfic and I hope it pleases. Happy Reading! And if you would, please leave a note at the end to let me know your thoughts. Thank you! - C**

 **DISCLAIMER** **: I do not own Harry Potter.** **Everything I write is for my own entertainment, yours too if you see fit.**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter One:

 _Many Happy Returns_

* * *

 **THEODORA**

It's upon stepping out onto Platform 9 ¾ that Theodora Adrastea Malfoy promptly decides she is very fond of trains indeed. It's the first time she's seen the Hogwarts Express up close with her own eyes and she does her best not to look too impressed. Inside she's buzzing and is brimming with excitement at all the activity around her.

Scorpius stands next to their mother, looking up at her with worry in his eyes. Thea, however, prefers not to dwell on the sullen look the woman gives them in return, or the way she tries to hide her weakness behind a smile. Thea does not let her eyes linger too long on the two of them, the way their mother's fingers run gently over Scorpius' hair as she smiles down proudly at him.

She stands alone instead, watching as strangers busy themselves on the platform. Hoards of children with trunks and trolleys pass her by with smiles similar to the one Thea is hiding beneath a calculating stare. She grips onto Magnus' cage a little tighter as she watches, unsure of all the new faces despite her previous excitement. The small cry from the cage pull her eyes from the masses and down to Magnus who looks up at her, his green eyes wide.

"Not much longer, boy," she assures him, letting the black cat nuzzle against her fingers as she places them between the bars. "Once we're on the train, I can let you out of this silly old thing."

"Just be sure not to lose him on your first day," a voice advices from behind her and she spins around, unable to hide her elation at seeing her father looking down at her, a small smile of his own stretching his lips.

"Papa!" she greets, her excitement controlled though her hands twitch slightly at her sides. She normally hugs him but knows better than to do so here. Malfoy's were not much for public displays of affection, after all. Instead she looks up at him and whispers, "I thought you weren't going to make it."

"And miss your first day off to Hogwarts?" he teases her, taking her small hand in his larger one, much to her surprise. "Not a chance." She's beaming. "Now, let us find your mother."

"She's over here," she explains, leading him over where she left an over-anxious Scorpius next to their mother whose expression brightened upon seeing her husband.

Upon spotting his wife, Draco Malfoy's eyes lighten and Thea warms at the sight of his smile. She likes the way he looks at her mother. No one looks at her like he does. In fact, it is quite the opposite look that Thea normally sees. For some time she thought the looks people gave her mother was pity. Astoria Malfoy is a sickly woman, after all. But as she grew, Thea realized it was not pity. It was disgust and, worst of all, fear.

Ridding himself of the mark is ultimately impossible, her father told her once. She was seven when she found herself brave enough to ask about the mark and the taboo that came with it. He'd been uncomfortable, the same as he gets when he visits his parents during the holidays. But he was patient in his explanation and she listened, despite not fully understanding much about the man called Voldemort and the war that had happened long before her time.

But now the war is over and her father's defection is well known as well as his resentment for the old ways. But still Thea sees the looks, hears "Death Eater" whispered behind his back. Some aren't as subtle. People whisper many things about the Malfoys, things that sometimes include her but her father has always insisted she ignore them. Rumors, he explained once, were simply rumors and nothing more.

But Thea can't ignore them, not completely. She knows what they say about her and she isn't sure how it's even possible. The Dark Lord's bastard. Time travel. It is preposterous - or so she's told. But it doesn't stop people from looking at her, at all of them, like they're monsters. People only see the name Malfoy, and with it, a darkness long intertwined with its genealogy.

"Look, Mama. He came!"

"Indeed he did, my sweet," the woman says, grinning as she reaches out to him and Thea watched as her father grabbed the woman's hand in return. He squeezes it, she can tell because her mother blushes and she turns her head slightly in embarrassment. "Draco," her mother insists with a weak smile. "I am fine, truly."

"Mum," Scorpius speaks up and Thea can hear the concern in his voice again. "I can stay home this year. I can help make things easier for you and Father."

"Don't be daft, Scorpius!" is her outburst before she can stop herself and her brother narrows his eyes at her. "I can't go to Hogwarts without you!" She turns to her father for assistance. "Papa, tell him!"

"Your sister is right," he agrees and she can feel a hint of relief at the sound of his tone. "There is no need for you to stay. I've already informed the Ministry that I am needed at home."

"Draco," Astoria speaks and this time there is a frown on her lips. "You resigned? But you enjoy your work so much."

"I don't need the work, Astoria. I need to be home with my wife."

"I will be fine, truly. I don't need either of you to-" but she doesn't finish because he takes a step closer and Thea is shocked when he places his hand tenderly on her mother's cheek. She looks around but no one has noticed.

"It's done," he concludes, his voice gentle but there is a hint of finality in his words as he turns to Scorpius. "I appreciate your willingness, son. But what I want for you is a Hogwarts education and to look after your sister while she's there."

"I don't expect she'll need much help from me," Scorpius grumbles in return and Thea smirks.

"He's right," she teases. "I'm sure he's the one who needs me to take care of him."

He sticks out his tongue at her and she returns it with one of her own.

"Alright you two," their mother interrupts. Scorpius is the first to straighten while Thea still eyes him mischievously.

"It won't matter anyways," Thea adds. "He'll be much too busy in Ravenclaw to keep an eye on me, bookworm that he is."

"Oh?" her mother says, eyebrow rising at Thea's interjection. "And what makes you so certain you won't be sorted to Ravenclaw as well? You share many of the same interests as your brother." Thea scoffs. "Don't be so certain you know where you will end up, my dear. Scorpius was certain he'd be sorted to Slytherin. You never know where the Sorting Hat will say. Perhaps you'll even be sorted into Gryffindor."

Thea and her father make exaggerated noises of disgust at this notion and her mother rolls her eyes because she thinks they're both being childish.

"Scorpius has his mother's mind indeed," her father replies, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. "But I'm not sure any doubt this one will be wearing green come supper time."

The train sounds once, breaking up their quiet merriment and suddenly all of Thea's brief apprehensions dissipate. In their place, the dull excitement of the Hogwarts Express returns.

"It's time," she cheers under breath and she looks up at her mother who has tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh Mama, it will be alright. I'll write to you as much as you'd like," she assures, grabbing hold of her mother who engulfs her in a warm hug. Scorpius follows suit but lingers a few moments longer than Thea who moves quickly over to her father to say goodbye.

She looks up and he's not hiding his smile.

"I will be Slytherin, won't I?" she whispers, half doubting her own assurances just moments ago and he chuckled softly.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, placing his lips against her forehead. "You may have inherited your mother's looks, but you are undoubtedly your father's daughter," he explains, crouching down to her level and places his warm fingers under her chin. His face grows serious now. "Never forget that. Promise?"

She does promise him, nodding curtly as she does and then grabs hold of Scorpius' hand to pull him away towards the whistling train. She doesn't look back as she boards, too engulfed in the elation that is washing over her. Her family waits behind her waving though she doesn't notice.

If she'd known it was the last time her mother would be standing there waving her off to school, she would have turned around one last time.

But she doesn't. And she regrets it.

* * *

 **FIVE YEARS LATER**

Magnus is meowing from his golden cage and Thea doesn't blame him because she's growing just as impatient. She stands on the platform, her patent leather flats tapping vigorously on the stone as she waits.

Albus is always late.

Even knowing this doesn't dampen her impatience as she awaits the arrival of the Potters. For the moment, the scowling is kept at bay and yet she still earns several stares from fellow classmates as they pass.

"Would it kill them to try and arrive on time for once?" she grumbles and her father glances down at his pocketwatch.

"It's nearly last call, the conductor will be shouting out any moment," he points out as if she hasn't been checking the time as well. Her tapping grows quicker.

Both glance up to see Scorpius, sitting a few windows to their left and Thea can see his eyes are far away despite the large group of his fellow Ravenclaws currently occupying the compartment with him.

"He hates today," she whispers and her father only nods. "He misses her all the time," she adds and when she looks back at her father she sees his eyes fall.

"I know," he replies, his voice catching slightly.

"He'll be okay," she adds, realizing she's just made things worse and even attempts a small smile in the corner of her mouth. He mirrors the false comfort and places his hand on her shoulder.

"I know that too," he says. "He has you looking out for him."

"As always," she teases and they both allow a small chuckle.

The conductor is shouting out and the warm moment with her father ends as scowls replaces both of their features and her father sighs.

"Honestly, Theodora, I do question your judgement in friends sometimes," he says and she knows he's joking but only a little because he has had plenty to say about her befriending a Potter, Slytherin or not.

"You know, I'm starting to question my own judgement as well," she grumbles but then sighs in relief when out of the previously blank brick wall comes an entire hoard of Potters. "Merlin's Beard, it's about time."

Mr. Potter is the first one through and she can see how flustered he is as he tries to get the trolley through to the train workers as they continue to load up last minute luggage. He's followed by Lily, the youngest Potter offspring and her usually plaited auburn hair is replaced with bouncy curls and Thea realizes for the first time that the child is no longer the little girl she remembered.

She ignores James who comes out third and he's running with his usual smug expression plastered to his lips as he carries his broom in one hand and his caged owl in the other. She lightens as Albus finally appears, followed quickly by his mother who fusses over something in his hair and he promptly brushes her off like the moody teenager he is and she grins.

Though based off of James' peculiar expression as their eyes meet, she thinks maybe it's a smirk but ignores him as he rushes by her and reaches her hand out to Albus before he gets lost in a sea of Weasleys who are now pouring onto the platform as well.

"Late," she scolds. "As always."

Albus gives her the same look he gave his mother moments ago and she is immediately aware that he wants her to shut up and she does but only because she's in a hurry. She turns quickly to her father and tells him she'll write after supper and she doesn't stop to hug him because she knows it will embarrass them both.

Grabbing Albus' hand, she rushes them both towards the train, ignoring his pleas to slow down. Magnus doesn't thank her either as he bounces slightly in the cage as they run but she'll apologize later.

As expected, the train is full and even though the conductor has whistled for last call the corridors are bustling with activity so much so that they have to squeeze through groups of fifth years who frown at her as she passes. If she had a free hand she'd return the favor with extra commentary but she has more important things to focus on. Like getting their compartment which is likely overrun by now.

Albus fumbles awkwardly and she thinks she hears him say he doesn't need her to hold his hand but she only tightens her grip as she pulls him through the halls until they've reached their usual compartment. She comes to an abrupt halt in front of it and Albus stops short of running into her as he reaches her side and peers in to see what has has her frowning.

It's full of first years.

She gives Albus a knowing glance and he rolls his eyes.

"We don't _have_ to sit in this compartment. There are other spaces," he informs her and she stares at him blankly. "I just mean, there is no reason to-"

She doesn't let him finish before interrupting with, "Of _course_ we have to sit here. We sit here every year just like every year we make sure the first years know that we are not interested in sharing or making friends."

"Aren't we?"

"No," she answers him quickly. "We most definitely are not. We don't need friends," she reminds him and he sighs.

"Thea, I have friends," he contradicts, as defiant as Albus Potter can possibly be and Thea raises and eyebrow.

"Oh? Name one," she insists and as he opens his mouth she adds, "not including me."

He doesn't finish whatever he was planning on saying as his mouth falls and shifts next to her. She reaches for the door to the compartment and when she starts to slide it open he mutters, "Be nice." She replies with a gentle elbow to his side and he stumbles.

"Oh, hello," she says in mock surprise and the four first years in the compartment return her pleasantry with smiles.

First years are precious in that way. They're so wide-eyed and optimistic about everyone and she can tell based on that alone that she's dealing with a compartment of future Hufflepuffs.

"My name is Theodora Malfoy, sixth year," she begins and already the innocent smiles begin to fall, fueling her own as she continues. "I thought I'd introduce myself seeing as you're new and sitting in my usual compartment. Which is fine, of course, we don't mind sharing. Do we, Al?"

Albus returns her sugary lie with a roll of his eyes.

"It looks like it'll be a bit snug, but I'm sure we can make it work. Oh, I do know a few spells that may empty up some space.." she goes on but she sees the first years already shifting nervously and she knows it's because of her name and because she's mentioning spells and they've likely heard all about what kinds of spells the Malfoys do.

One brave first year, perhaps a Gryffindor after all, stands up and pulls on his friend's shirt.

"Come on Nguyen, let's go," he says and the other three don't hesitate before following him out the door.

She ignores their whispers which aren't really whispers at all as they hurry down the corridor, talking about that awful Malfoy girl who kicked them out of their compartment. She only shrugs, pleased with herself because now their compartment is empty.

"Terrorizing first years already, Malfoy?" she hears from behind her and her smile fades as she spins around slowly, looking up at James Potter who is towering over her, arms crossed.

She hates that he's taller than her. And not taller like Albus is. Albus is tall as well but not so tall that she has to crane her neck as she looks up at him. James knows he is tall and she can see the amusement in her eyes every time he looks down at her.

Smug bastard.

"I wouldn't have to terrorize them, Potter, if your family could manage to arrive anywhere on time. I'd be happy to charm your watch there if it would help."

He doesn't like it when she talks about his family because his jaw always twitches and he has to spend a few extra seconds trying to think of what to say. This time is no different as the silence between them grows and she taps her foot impatiently. He only glances momentarily at his watch before returning his glare back on her.

"Well as invigorating as this argument is, I expect we'll be leaving soon," she says and turns to leave and this time he addresses Albus.

"Lucy needs somewhere to sit," he informs his younger brother and Thea lets her curiosity get the better of her as she glances over her shoulder at the little red thing that is Lucy Weasley.

"What about your compartment?" Albus supplies and James shakes his head, pointing to the boys behind him.

"Full up," he mutters, giving Albus an insistent look.

Albus is normally persuaded by such looks which is why Thea always feels obligated to intervene on his behalf. It makes her wonder how he ever became a Slytherin in the first place.

"Did you tell her she'd be sitting with a Malfoy?" she asks and the girl's eyes grow wide as she stumbles back into James.

Albus, quick to recover, adds "A _nice_ Malfoy," as if it might help, to his younger cousin but she doesn't budge and Thea only scoffs.

"I'm not that nice," she corrects him, noting it sounds a bit like a boast and Albus pinches her gently in the side.

"She has a point there," is James' sardonic quip, barely audible under his breath and she can feel herself rising to the bait.

But instead of indulging in another chapter of the ongoing verbal disputes that she and James Potter consistently share, she clears her throat and points to the empty seat where Magnus is currently calling home. "Come on in, Little Weasley. I won't bite."

Lucy gives her a wary look and stares up at Albus who gives her an encouraging smile that he uses to hid his amusement at Thea's attempt at 'sweet'. Lucy does join them, finally, but sits on the opposite side of Magnus who she eyes nervously. The cat flips his tail in response before letting his green eyes close.

Thea returns her attention to James, then, who is still leaning against the doorway and she can see Sebastian Barbary and Davy Finnigan behind him talking. Despite having settled the dispute at hand, James still stares at her, his brown eyes burning for an argument that she refuses to give him. So instead she smiles.

"Anything else, Potter?"

It's enough to break him from whatever haughty response he is preparing and he lets his eyes linger for only a moment longer before they flick over to Albus and he jerks his head in the direction of the corridor.

"Prefect business, little brother. Remember?"

"Oh shit, I forgot!" Albus curses but then covers his mouth as he realizes they have a younger presence. "Shit," he says again trying to correct his profanity but it's too late.

Lucy sits wide-eyed and Magnus, stirred by Albus' outburst, jumps from his seat and makes his way over to the child's lap.

Thea can only smile.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This one is a bit shorter than I usually write but I thought I'd just give you a quick peek at what's to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**x**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Two:

 _Malfoy Contraband_

* * *

 **JAMES**

James loves the first day of school. It's his last year and he senses that finality which each passing landmark. His last train ride to school is uneventful as ever and he's pleased to find out at the feast that he's made Captain of the house team this year. He promises Head of House, Professor Longbottom, that it won't interfere with Prefect business.

He isn't entirely sure why Professor McGonagall allowed him to keep his Prefect badge, especially after all the mischief he and his mates got into the year before, but he doesn't question it when it arrives in the mail and instead, he wears it with pride.

He's surprised, however, when Albus receives a 6th year badge, more perhaps to see that he's eager to accept it. He's not sure he's ever seen his brother so interested in anything since befriending a Malfoy. He tries to understand it, why Albus cares for Theodora Malfoy, but he can never really sort it out. He hates that it bothers him so much, but he tells himself he's just trying to be a good brother, that he's trying to be protective.

He'd be less concerned if it were Scorpius.

Scorpius is Malfoy in name alone, or so he seems. They've been in the same classes for nearly seven years and James' suspicion of the Head Boy dwindles which each passing interaction. He remembers the first time they spoke, standing together just outside the Great Hall, waiting for their sorting ceremony and James could feel the excitement burning through his veins.

He would be a Gryffindor, of that there was no doubt.

But Scorpius seemed completely uninterested in following in his father's footsteps, unlike James. He was anxious, staring at the floor, his fingers ringing his cloak as James laughed with the girl next to him. But even throughout the merriment, James still noticed the boy's anxiety and despite everything he'd heard of his father's encounters with Draco Malfoy in school, Scorpius seemed less threatening than he'd imagined. Time only seemed to strengthen that perception and while they never really grew into a steady friendship, a mutual respect overshadowed any of his previous prejudices.

The same could not be said for Theodora.

She, unlike her brother, was everything James remembered his father describing as traits of a Malfoy. She was conceited, entitled, and sometimes, though James hated to use the word, a raging bitch, a thorn in his side to put it nicely. But for some reason, his socially awkward brother had fallen into her manipulative hands and no matter what James or his parents said, the younger Potter brother would not be swayed. She was a Malfoy, through and through, and he hated that Albus believed her to be a friend. It bothered him even more that his brother would never tell him why.

" _You wouldn't understand,"_ is always his response and each time Albus uttered the words James' blood would boil. He likes to think he'd be more understanding if the guy was in love with her. But Albus has always insisted that his feelings for her are purely platonic. Even their parents flinch slightly every time she is brought up in conversation and despite their prying, Albus manages to skillfully change the topic and the story of Theodora and Albus always remains a mystery.

After the welcome feast, he's busy herding first years to the dormitories when she crosses his path in the corridor. He watches her pass him, plaited brown hair slung over her shoulder and she has the audacity to wink as he catches her eye. He looks away first, trying to focus on corralling the first years up to the common room as she descends back down in the dungeons. He hates that the impulse to look back at her tugs at him, that he shoots one last glance over his shoulder as he starts towards the staircase. He hates more that when he does, she isn't looking back at him.

But he doesn't let her spoil his mood as the first years get settled in and he's free now to remove his robes and share a drink with his mates up in Davy Finnigan's dorm. But he must still be scowling because as he sips the firewhiskey straight from the bottle, his friends take note of his distraction.

"Where's your mind at James?" Davy snatches the bottle, laughing as he takes a swig. "Not having second thoughts about ending things with Val, are we?"

James forces a laugh, joining the conversation as he accios the bottle right out of Davy's grasp. From the open window in the circular dorm tower, Sebastian Barbary chuckles as well, his smoke blowing out into the night air as he exhales.

"It's been months," says James, not appreciating the reminder of the breakup that both of his friends disapproved of. "We've both moved on. Why would I be having second thoughts?"

"Well she certainly has moved on," Bas says, his voice hindered slightly by the cigarette in his mouth. "I saw her cozying up to Preston on the train."

"When was that?" He tries not to sound interested because he really has gotten over Valerie since their breakup last term. But part of him dislikes the fact that it's Preston Corner of all people that she's decided to move on with. The guy is a prick on many levels, least of all his obsession with besting James in everything.

Bas and Davy exchange smirks.

"When you were busy sparring with Malfoy," Bas replies and if there's a topic he's less interested in than Preston hitting on his ex, it's Thea Malfoy.

James' only response is to roll his eyes but Bas is determined to pry.

"You know she only gets under your skin because you let her," he says.

"Thanks, mum," scoffs James.

"Maybe if you spent less time trying to get under her skin and more time trying to get under her-"

"Please, don't finish that sentence, Davy," James says, his frown deepening at the insinuation and he ignores the childish laughter that ensues at the prospect of James and Thea in any sort of compromising position.

"Nah, I doubt she'd be interested anyways," Bas interrupts, holding the smoke in his lungs as he speaks and James tries to ignore the comment.

"Oh?" Davy says, eyebrows raised. "How do you mean? You saying bad girl Malfoy is too good for our boy James?"

"Well-," Bas says with a shrug and adds, "-aside from that." James can't stop the finger that shoots up in response. "Seriously though, I think you uh, ain't her type mate."

"Do dragons have a type?" he counters and Davy chokes on the last swig of firewhiskey in the bottle.

" _Other_ lady dragons, perhaps," says Bas and there is nothing forced about the laugh that James let's out at the idea.

"We're talking about _Theodora_ Malfoy, right?" Bas nods. "No way. Wasn't she with uh, who was it?" James stalls despite the fact that he knows for a fact Thea and Alec Zabini were an item not long ago. He's saved by Davy's agreeance with Bas.

"No, you know what? Bas is right. I heard about that thing with her and Dom. Though I thought it was just rumors."

"Her and Dom?" James questions slowly. "Dominique? My cousin? What _thing_?"

"Oh come off it! Don't tell me you didn't know! I heard from Kalyn who found out from Roxy. Spent the entire summer in Majorca snoggin' on the beach."

"No, Dom was in Majorca on internship, studying with Professor Longbottom at the Herbology Institute," James says, remembering the trip Dom announced at family dinner before end of term in the spring. "N.E.W.T. students only."

"We're talking about Thea Malfoy," Bas replies. "Top marks in Herbology and Potions. There's no doubt she'll be in our classes this year."

The idea is still spinning in James' head. He's certain he doesn't remember Dom mentioning anything about Thea over the summer. Then again, he recalls, she barely talks about the trip at all. Even so, he's disappointed in his cousin's taste in girls if she somehow found interest in hooking up with a Malfoy.

"I expect that's where she found that delectable herb you're hogging?" Davy says, breaking James' thoughts and he turns back to see Bas pass what James previously believed was a cigarette to Davy.

"The girl may be ice cold, but she definitely knows how to make some premium herb," Bas sputters and it leaves both of James' friends in fits of laughter that suddenly begin to make sense.

They're high, off Malfoy drugs which are banned, though not unlike the firewhiskey currently spinning in his veins.

"You can't be serious," James says, shaking his head and Bas rolls his eyes in response.

"Oh sorry, Mr. Prefect! I didn't realize we were anti-drug all of a sudden."

"It's not that. But come on, Malfoy? You trust anything she gives you and you deserve to be cursed."

"Jay, come on mate," Davy says between fits of giggles. "Even I think his whole _hate-on_ you have for her is getting a bit old."

" _Hate-on_?" The choice of words is amusing but still James finds himself on the defensive. "I do not have a _hate-on_ for her."

There is only laughter.

James can feel himself getting irritated and once again it's because of Thea's meddling in his personal life. Thea stealing his brother, getting his best mates high, fucking his cousin. It's all too much. He knows he should just let it go but something inside of him can't.

The only way to drown out the anger is a second bottle of firewhiskey he steals from the kitchens. He doesn't bother to use the map in his back pocket as he, Davy and Bas slip through the hidden corridors around the castle until they've reached the kitchens.

There's no need, they've been at this game too long.

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

"You can't sit next to me," he hisses as Thea settles down in the open seat at his table. She sticks her tongue out as she pulls out her quill and ink from her satchel and Scorpius groans inwardly at her persistence.

It's their first class together and she's determined to make it hell for him. He's supposed to be the one with top marks, but as much as it pains him, he can't deny that his sister's talent in Potions exceeds his own. Still, he's Head Boy. He has spent the last six years being top of class and suddenly a few O's land her in N.E.W.T. level potions and he would prefer not to share the spotlight.

He'll make a point sitting as far away from her as he can in Herbology.

The class is filling up as Professor Slughorn walks in, James Potter shuffling behind him and it's clear the boy is hungover despite the failed attempt at combing his hair. He'll be sure to remind him about the appearance of senior prefect members at their next meeting because for now all he can do is shake his head as they await Professor Slughorn's instruction.

Scorpius is settled in and unlike his sister he doesn't need quill and ink, his memory serves him better than notes ever could. It's his mother's mind, his father always reminds him but not too often because they rarely ever speak about her unless Thea brings it up. But Thea is much too like their father and once they start covering new material, her detailed notes will be coveted by the entirety of N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Slughorn is about to begin when the final member of their class rushes through the door, apologizing profusely walks and suddenly Scorpius feels himself sit up a little straighter at the site of her auburn hair tied neatly back with a red ribbon. She's not late but he gets the feeling Rose Weasley never arrives to class less than fifteen minutes early.

"Ah, Miss Weasley," the professor announces and points to the empty seat near the front. "Welcome. So glad to have the daughter of Hermione Granger in my class, at last." He says this because Professor Slughorn only teaches one class at Hogwarts now due to his age and preference for leisure.

"Thank you, professor," she says with a smile as she settles into the empty desk nearest Dominique Weasley.

To say her presence bothers Scorpius would be an understatement. Having Thea in his class, competing for top marks will be difficult enough. But both Malfoys know how driven they are likely to be now that Rose is part of the equation as well. But for Thea, it's competition.

For Scorpius, it's something else entirely.

He has never told anyone about his feelings for Rose. His sister has her suspicions but so long as they stay off the topic of relationships neither one is eager to pry. Their unspoken agreement means she doesn't talk about her relationships and he doesn't talk about his. Scorpius, unlike his sister, is painfully inexperienced but she doesn't lord that over him. And to reciprocate, he doesn't remind her that despite her few relationships the majority of the student body has proclaimed him, 'the likeable Malfoy.'

He's heard the rumors about Dominique. He knows it's the reason his sister doesn't talk about Majorca. But it's not his place to pry. If he pries into Thea's bottled up feelings he knows she'll retaliate with questions about Rose. His sister respects his privacy, it's the least he can do to respect hers.

Class runs smoothly at the beginning but slowly the tension begins to grow as the class begins secretly taking tally every time Rose corrects one of Thea's answers. Technically, neither girl is wrong, but even Scorpius sees the humor in his sister's vast knowledge being tested by someone as innocent as Rose Weasley. They debate for half an hour about the magical properties of squid ink before Scorpius finally interrupts and puts everyone out of their misery. He's pretty sure he hears James mutter a " _Thank Dumbledore"_ as he does so.

The final tally is somewhere near twelve and he can already tell Thea will be out for blood this term. It means he has to step up his game if he plans to keep up. He contemplates several ideas which are far to Slytherin for his liking so he shoves to the back of his mind as tries to focus on Slughorn's lecture.

It's made difficult by the fact that he stands directly in front of Rose and in order to see him he has to stare in her direction. He tries taking notes but there's hardly anything in the introductory lesson that he hasn't already memorized and he's not brazen enough to look as bored as his sister.

She's leaning back, inspecting her fingernails as if she couldn't care less about Potions. But it's her favorite subject so he knows she's taking mental note of everything coming out of Slughorn's mouth.

Albus is scrambling to keep pace and his notes are entirely illegible from where Scorpius sits. Thea scribbles something in the margins of the parchment and by the gleam in Albus' eye as he glances over at his brother, it's clear Thea is poking fun at James. This goes on for what seems like ages before Slughorn dismisses class and on his way out of class, Scorpius receives a quick nudge to the shoulder as retaliation for his interference in the debate with Rose. When he glares up at his sister she's already halfway down the hallway, Albus in tow.

She spares him one final smirk over her shoulder paired with a black polished middle finger directed at him. Or at least he thinks it's him because when he checks behind him and sees James Potter fumbling with his books but he's not paying attention so it's safe to say it could be directed at either. Or both. Thea likes efficiency. He'd threaten to take house points if he thought it would bother her. But she'd probably just respond with another so he drops it and carries on down the opposite corridor.

He has no Head Boy duties until the evening and so he uses his free period to sit outside with fellow housemates Sedge and Lorcan. Preston is much too busy snogging his new girlfriend to talk about Quidditch trials and so he goes on without him. Trials are quickly approaching at week's end and while his friends Lorcan Scamander and Sedgewick Li are obvious choices for the squad, their biggest concern is finding a keeper.

"Matherson is the obvious choice," Sedge argues again but Lorcan is just as adamant in his opposition. It's obvious there's tension there since Paul has suggested his younger brother and, as his boyfriend, Sedge feels slightly obligated to vouch for him.

"Math can wait a year," Lorcan argues. "We have good talent in 6th year that we're not utilizing. I still think we should consider bringing Sal back."

"He and Preston don't exactly see eye to eye," Scorpius says and there's a collective groan when their fourth friend's name is mentioned.

"Preston shouldn't have a say, he can't even bother to be here to defend himself." Lorcan's comment is a reminder that they're all a bit tired of sticking up for the guy. He's their friend, but when it comes down to it, Preston Corner can be a bit of a prick. "Think about the other teams," Lorcan continues. "We haven't seen the final squads yet but we know the major skillset we'll be up against. With Chasers like James, Emery and Thea, we're going to need the expertise."

"And who says Math doesn't have expertise?" Sedge says, his voice rising.

"He's never made the team, for starters."

"He stood in when Sal broke nearly every bone in his body last term," Sedge counters and no one likes to bring up that game because it was a disaster they're all happy to forget.

He appreciates that Lorcan doesn't express that despite Matheson's ability to stop some of Thea's better throws, it was still not enough to win them the Cup. By the time one of the Slytherin bludgers blindsided Salomon from his broom, the game was getting ugly fast. It was an Alumni event, and Thea had never played better as Malfoy was pitted against Malfoy in front of their father.

By the time the match had finally ended, a three hour-long battle against Albus, the damage was irreparable.

He and Thea had agreed never to speak of it again.

"Captain?" Lorcan asks and Scorpius sighs, resigned.

"We'll let them both try out on Friday," he says finally. "And may the best keeper win."

Both Sedgewick and Lorcan reluctantly agree to the terms Scorpius has set in place but Lorcan still grumbles late at night on their way back to the dorms. For this reason, amongst many others, Scorpius is happy to have his own rooms, but tonight he's most happy to not have to listen to any more complaining.

He spends his evening writing a letter to his father as he always does on first day of term. He constructs it formally, with no mention of the issue of keeper or of Rose Weasley being in his Potions class. He talks mostly about his role as Head Boy and about his interactions with Thea because it's all he really knows how to talk about, all he thinks that will interest his father with whom he shares so little in common.

When he lies down in bed, he's awake for what seems like hours staring at the ceiling of his small dorm. The ceiling bleeds out into various shades of blue, intricate constellation patterns painted from one side to the other and he can name every single one.

The last thing he remembers before he succumbs to sleep is a vision of auburn hair and rosy cheeks and he wishes for the first time he had been sorted into Gryffindor, because then he might be able to muster up the courage to talk to Rose Weasley, instead of cowering behind his astronomy books. 

* * *

**ALBUS**

It's nearing the end of summer, he can tell by the warmth in the air. Humidity is dwindling but Thea and Albus indulge in the scattered bits of prolonged sunshine as the afternoon nears it's peak.

The courtyard is full of students doing much of the same and though he'd rather be down by the lake where they usually seclude themselves, they have Herbology next, and it's the only class Thea refuses to be tardy for.

She's soaking in the sun as Albus reads, her head propped on his stomach with her jumper wedged neatly in between them as her pillow. He knows her well enough to know she's only pretending to be sleeping because for once she doesn't want to talk.

But Albus can't concentrate on his book on a day like this. He knows Slytherins get a bad rap for spending all their time in the dungeons but Thea and Albus have always loved the sunshine as opposed to their damp common room. So he sits there, pretending to read his book as he lazily toys with the ends of Thea's dark curls and she pretends to sleep even though he's pretty sure she's trying to ignore Dom.

Dominique sits nearby and the Head Girl does not indulge in pretense as she sits giggling happily next to Bev Whitby. There is intimacy in the way the girl brushes an auburn hair from Bev's face and he suddenly understand why Thea has pretends not to know the girl's name on multiple occasions despite the fact that she and Albus have exactly four classes with her.

Thea would never admit she's heartbroken. She'd say she doesn't have a heart, or something equally as ridiculous because of course she does and Albus would simply laugh in agreeance despite the fact that he hates when she says things like that. It's obvious her fling with Dom was meant something. It's something real for the first time since whatever she had with Alec and even that was more of a fling than whatever happened in Majorca over the summer.

Dom brushes it off when he plucks up the courage to ask and he only does so because it's the one thing Thea refuses to talk about. She acts like she's fine but she can't keep her eyes off of Dom every time she walks in a room. Her only distraction is sarcasm and Albus is allowing it because it's how she copes with rejection. As far as Albus can tell, that is what is going on here. Rejection.

And Thea Malfoy has lived with rejection for far too long.

"Your face is getting pink," he says finally when he can't find his place on the page and she's quick to move as she pulls her wand from the blanket they're lying on and from it sparks one of her healing spells. Suddenly the pink is replaced with the milky white flesh he remembers.

"It's just a bit of sun, Albus," she whispers, shifting slightly and he groans uncomfortably as she presses into his stomach, still full from lunch. "How long until Herbology," she asks him and he glances up at the clock tower.

"Twenty minutes," he replies and she smiles, brushing the hair from her face.

He's sick of reading, he decides, and he'd much rather listen to her antics than pretend to read words on a page. So he decides to coerce her into conversation but trying his hand at something she hates.

"Thea?" he says and her eyes stay closed but she's listening.

"Hm?"

"Why are we friends?" he asks and at first she makes a face and peeks out of one eye to see if he's joking. But his expression goads her response. A shrug.

"I dunno," she says boredly. "I suppose because you're the only person here I could possibly tolerate." He scoffs.

"The _only_ person?" he hints and she pokes him gently under his left rib cage. He winces and pretends that she hasn't found the spot he's most ticklish.

"Why are you asking such a stupid question anyways?" she says then. They hate small talk and by the crinkle in brow he can assume she classifies this type of question under small talk. But he's determined to make her stop moping so he pokes under under the ribs in the identical location and but unlike him, she doesn't react.

She never does. She's quite possibly the only human he's met that isn't ticklish.

"Just answer." He pretends to be annoyed and she tries to hide the way the corners of her mouth twitch upwards.

"You know why we're friends, Al." She's serious now, her voice lowers because she would never allow someone else to hear her talk like this. Despite his prying, he doesn't need an answer because she's right, he does know. They share the same vulnerability and no matter what happens between them, they can always recover. They can always be themselves. There is no pretending. "You and me, we just...we get each other. I only need you. Everyone else can go fuck themselves."

"Hey now," he warns her, chuckling. "You're talking to a prefect, remember"

"Ok, Mr. Prefect," Thea says, her voice light.

A shadow interrupts their merriment and Thea shades her eyes to see who's standing in front of her perfect sunshine.

"Ugh," she groans. "Speaking of people who can go fuck themselves."

"Language, Malfoy," James says at the same time Albus scolds her using her full name and there is only amusement in one of their voices.

"Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" she asks formally and James' arms cross over his chest as he stares down at her.

"They can see your knickers," says James.

"Excuse me?"

"Your knickers," he repeats. "It's why they're all looking at you."

There's silence for many moments and Albus knows Thea is doing her best to be nonchalant when she says, "It's sweet, Jamie, that you care. But honestly, I really don't."

Albus cringes when she says 'Jamie' because he knows how much his brother hates it. James does his best to play it off, pretend that it doesn't bother him that she's not even looking at him as she shades her eyes with her arm. But James is obvious, every emotion written in his eyes and for better or worse, he's never been much of a liar.

"So did you come all the way over her to get a closer look at my knickers or was there something else?" she asks and James clears his throat as he glances back at Bas who nods.

"Quidditch trials," he says and Albus wonders how it is James ever became known as the socially competent one. "I...uh...I was hoping we could switch times."

Thea's intrigued enough to lift her head, then slyly sits up and leans back on her hands. "Oh?" she asks and even Albus can't help but smirk at where this is going. "I'm surprised you didn't settle this with Alec. He's the captain."

"Believe me, I went to him first." Anything to avoid talking to Thea, his brother means. "But he said he doesn't make the schedules."

"Oh," she furrows her brow and glances at Albus. "Who is it that makes the schedules?"

"I believe that would be you," Albus answers and she smiles.

"Indeed, I think you're right," she replies and she relishing every squirm in James' step as he hovers above her.

"Must we do this, Malfoy?" James says, his tone low and it comes out as a grumble.

More people are staring now and it's not because of Thea's knickers if that ever was the reason. It's because they are hoping to witness the tension between the two of them explode into something more entertaining but it's only James who is struggling to hold his composure, for once.

"You came to me as a last resort, I presume, which means Dom and Scorpius have already turned you down. And seeing as it _is_ First Friday, I'm not sure my squad would be too thrilled to find out I've switched our trial time to so late in the evening."

"What do you want?" James asks and Albus thinks she's already got what she wants and that's the upper hand. But she glances at him, a mischievous grin on her pink lips.

"Well I'm sure if you asked nicely."

"What?"

"You know... _please_ and all that."

"Oh you can forget _that_. Either you'll do it or you won't."

"How about this, I'll do it if you say 'please' and I won't if you don't. There, now you have a choice."

"Not much of a bloody choice," he mutters and earns an elbow from Davy on his right. James rolls his eyes.

"Come on, Thea. Pretty please," Bas says and even puts on a sugary smile and she winks.

"No no Sebastian. Your captain is a big boy. I'm sure if getting smashed down at the pubs on First Friday is that important to him, he'll be able to muster up a little bitty word like, 'please'."

" _Merlin_ , you're a insufferable," says James, his voice growing louder and more impatient by the moment and Albus tries not to laugh at his brother's predicament but he ends up masking a snicker in an ill-timed cough.

"Please Thea…." she prompts, her voice low like a song, and James lets out heavy breath.

"Please, switch time slots with me, Malfoy," is the best he can muster and she and Albus let out a great laugh at the same time which seems to infuriate him even more, his fists clutching at his sides. "Fucking hell," he whispers as he turns and Bas and Davy follow closely behind as Thea falls back, holding her stomach.

"Since you asked so nicely, Potter! Happy to oblige!" she shouts after him but he's nearly out of sight by the time she gets her last word out and more than a few of the spectators in the crowd seem to be as amused by the interaction as Albus. Others are more disappointed that it didn't escalate to wands as it sometimes has in the past.

Albus helps her up, out of the grass and she lazily transfigures the blanket into a small napkin which she promptly pockets as she pulls on her jumper and then cloak. Albus straightens his tie as they exit the courtyard. It's on their way to the greenhouses that he asks her how she was able to convince Scorpius to play along and she smirks and replies, "Just had to agree never to sit next to him in class for the rest of term. He seemed keen to agree."

"When do you think we can make a similar bargain?" he teases and she clasps hold of his hand.

"Never darling. You're stuck with me forever."

He's not disappointed by her answer.

* * *

 **THEA**

The skies open up just after dusk and the sunlight is replaced by flashes of lightning that put Magnus on edge. He's curled up against Thea's legs as she puts the finishing touches on her letter home and she curses under her breath when the black cat bumps her hand. Her signature smudges, the ink spilling onto her hands, but her reflexes are quick enough that it doesn't make it onto her perfectly pressed white sheets.

She frowns at Magnus.

"Settle down, kid," she says, her voice soft and he returns her attempts at comfort with a loud cry. "Fine, have it your way then."

He does indeed have it his way as she places the letter on her bedside table, grabbing her tea cup, and he keeps his eyes locked on hers as he kneads the fabric of her pajamas with his claws. She raises her eyebrows but he isn't content until she feels the sharp sting of one of his nails catching on her skin and she hisses.

He looks pleased with himself as falls onto his stomach, tail floating back and forth slowly.

There's a window in her room but she doesn't get much natural light during the day. It's just close enough to the surface of the Black Lake that the lightning flashes down through it. Every so often she sees various fish swim by and on rarer occasions a grindylow that likes to taunt Magnus. But today it's virtually empty of it's usual creatures as the waters slosh wildly from the storm.

Her roommate, Elara Murrow, is terrified that the merepeople might catch them undressing and keeps the curtains closed whenever she gets the chance. But Thea rarely sees them in the dorms, only in the common suspects one of them alerted Professor Slughorn when she and Albus accidentally set the emerald curtains in the common room on fire during first year because they didn't have nearly enough time to put them out before he found the two of them, curtains ablaze.

They received a week's detention after that.

But today she's alone, waiting for Elara to come back from their prefect meeting because that means Albus is back too.

She's never entirely sure of how she's supposed to pass the time without Albus. She supposes one day she should learn how to do that sort of thing on her own but unless she thinks maybe she still has time. She doesn't like to admit he's the only real human interaction she gets at Hogwarts, but it's true. And she knows one day she's going to have to get over that as well.

But not yet, she thinks. She's not ready to grow up.

McGonagall likes to remind her that she doesn't have a choice in the matter during their biweekly sessions. They were instituted at the beginning of second year, after the death of her mum. Scorpius has them too only he's pretty sure he's not the one the Headmaster is concerned about. She's not worried about the Ravenclaw Head Boy and whether or not he's having dark thoughts, whether or not the whispers of other students get to him.

But nobody whispers about Scorpius.

And she doesn't let them get to her because she's already committed to this game. This charade that they built for her and she doesn't like to disappoint. But McGonagall can sniff out the bullshit better than most so it's impossible for Thea to lie to her of all people. They share that in common and she wonders if that's why the Headmaster allows her to continue this fine line.

As long as she doesn't cross it. She knows that. But Thea has no interest in crossing lines. Not those kinds anyways.

Thea's first meeting of the year reminds her that her time at Hogwarts is coming to an end and that one day, she might actually be able to escape the name Malfoy. Scorpius has already managed to shake the stigma. She wonders if she'll ever be able to do the same.

The door flies open and instead of Elara she sees Albus and her brow furrows in confusion. He's panting, his wand in his left hand and Thea taps her fingers as she waits for his explanation.

"Hide the herbs," he says quickly.

"How did you get up h-"

"Later," he hisses. "Scorpius and Dom are coming with Slughorn any second so if you have any of your herbs lying around, I suggest you get rid of it."

"I don't have anything," she says, holding her hands out. He gives her a knowing look but she shakes her head. "I swear."

"Well it was brought up during the prefects meeting and, well, you know James, he immediately launched into the idea that the Heads should investigate."

"He did what?" she asks, her frown deepening.

"It's been all over school. I heard about it from Bas of all people so no doubt the allegations came from my brother. I don't know why you'd give it to one of his friends of all people. You know he wants to see you sacked from Quidditch."

"I didn't," she assures him. "I gave something to Roxy in Majorca. It's not my fault she's sharing with half the school."

He eyes her again and she mirrors his look in annoyance.

"Well they'll be here any second so you better be telling the truth because you know they'll kick you off the squad if you don't." He reminds her of the code of conduct as if she doesn't remember, as if she hasn't read it herself and signed it every start of term. She's not an idiot.

James Potter on the other hand.

"And _you_ should probably, I don't know, disappear before both of us are kicked off the squad for you being in my room."

Albus catches on, a little too slowly because he hasn't done anything questionable since fourth year, and it's like he's forgotten he's a Slytherin completely because he blushes furiously at the insinuation. But he's quick to leave once the realization hits him and when the door slams closed, Magnus grunts from her lap.

"Well I hope you're not hiding anything naughty, kid," she whispers and it's only a few moments before she hears footsteps upon the stone staircase and a knock at her door. "Come in," she says, her voice raised and she makes sure to sound annoyed because she doesn't want them to make a habit of this kind of thing.

Dom comes in first and Thea is glad Scorpius is directly behind her because she has no interest in whatever pity game she's playing at every time she gives her those doe eyes. Slughorn is closeby as well with seventh year prefect Torra Bletchley from Slytherin. Last is James and she can't hide her disdain when he makes his way inside as well.

"If I'd known to expect so much company I would have put the kettle on," she says boredly as she sips her own tea from her place in bed.

"Very kind of you, Theodora, but we're here on more serious business I'm afraid," the old man says, missing her sarcasm. She slides her feet off the bed, much to Magnus' annoyance, and sets her teacup on the bedside table.

"Well then, what can I help you with, Professor?"

"Certain allegations have been made that you are distributing contraband here at school. I of course said this was ludicrous but rules are rules and the prefect council voted that an investigation would need to be made."

"Oh?" she says, glancing at James, her lips narrowed into a straight line. "And who, might I ask, made such allegations?"

"Well, my dear, those matters must remain anonymous, you understand."

"Of course." She's amenable as she can possibly stomach.

"Let's get this over with shall we?" says Scorpius.

Slughorn doesn't speak as he waves his wand and whatever spell he's trying for produces no results, as expected. Everyone looks rather put out except James who smirks as if he's about to bury Thea once and for all. But there's only silence and Thea sighs as everyone looks at each other with the same blank expressions.

Thea frowns as Magnus walks over to the door and nudges James' leg, meowing at him several times until he gives the cat the attention he wants.

"If I knew what you were looking for, perhaps I could point you in the right direction," she offers sweetly, her eyes still on Magnus and she glares at him and his betrayal. He'll find a place on the floor to sleep tonight.

"What about those?," James says quietly as he points to Thea's vanity where several vials stand upright in an antique case gifted to her by her grandmother. She's about to relay a well crafted reply as her heart races but Scorpius answers before she can.

"Sleeping potions, prescribed by our family Mediwizard," he insists. "Madam Pomfrey has already cleared them."

"Scorpius," she hisses and she knows he thinks he's doing her a favor but the last thing she wants is James Potter knowing anything about her personal life.

"Yes, I too am aware of the potions prescribed to Miss Malfoy and they have been approved by the administration, including myself. Now, I do apologize for taking up your time, dear. Since our search turned up no results, we will consider these allegations, fruitless and settle the matter privately. Thank you for your cooperation."

"But, Professor Slughorn-" says Dom and Thea furrows her brow in confusion as Slughorn holds up his hand in response to signify he's done with the conversation.

But Thea is far from done with Dom if she's the one who ratted her out to the prefects.

The Head Girl doesn't meet her eyes again as she steps out and the only one left behind when the others leave is Torra. She's smiling of course and Thea knows it's because she thinks Thea has managed to pull one over on them all.

"One day, Malfoy," she says grinning. "One day I'll figure out how you do it."

"I don't know to what you are referring, Bletchley," is her response and the girl nods, chuckles quietly to herself, and closes the door behind her.

Elara is still nowhere to be found.

She waits an entire twelve minutes before she leaves the room, grabbing a night robe from the rack on the wall as she slips out into the cold corridor. The dungeons are cold and damp in every space except the living areas. It's only forty-seven steps to the boys dorms and she doesn't bother knocking when she finds the door she's looking for.

Albus is there as is his roommate Rickard Avery. Rick quickly hides something as Thea walks in and she assumes, by the red that flushes in his cheeks and the wide eyes, is porn of some sort. Albus doesn't look phased because, unlike the girls dorms, it's easy for her to get in and out without setting off any spells to deter her.

"Out," she says simply and Rickard frowns.

"This is my room, Malfoy."

"I don't care. Leave."

He does as she says but grumbles the entire way out and she waits for him to shut the door before she directs her wands at the locks and walks straight passed Albus over to the hutch in the corner that belongs to his roommate. She reaches through the drawers, pushing aside several pairs of green and grey socks before pulling out a small sachet that causes Albus to sigh.

"You have _got_ to be bloody joking," he says and she shrugs.

"It's hardly anything to get excited about. It's only the one and I don't plan on sharing," she tells him he's shaking his head, deciding whether to scold her or be impressed. "That is, unless you care to join?" she offers.

"Pass," he says, and he always does but she always asks because she loves watching Albus Potter get flustered about rule-breaking.

She stops halfway to the door and spins back around and she doesn't smirk or scoff so he knows what she's about to ask is serious.

"Who reported me?" she asks and his gaze falls. "You made it seem like it was James but it wasn't him was it?"

"Thea-" he attempts but it's useless because they both already know he was trying to spare her and for once she understands why.

"For the record," she says, forcing a smile this time and he doesn't buy it but lets her carry on. "She broke up with me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"Not tonight, Al."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed chapter 2 as I start to get more into the story. There will be more Rose coming up, so stay tuned! If you have a second to leave a note, I'm always happy to read your thoughts and feedback. Thank you again** _ **Radio Free Death**_ **for the helpful notes. I didn't submit entirely but I think I cleaned up the dialogue a bit when it comes to he said she said...I agree, makes for a smoother read.**


	3. Chapter 3

x

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Three:

 _First Friday_

* * *

 **ROSE**

 **(FIRST FRIDAY)**

 **-19:00-**

First Friday has been a tradition instituted by the upperclassmen of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the last seven years. It was originally established through a movement led by Teddy Lupin who became renowned for his campaign of the social, and not simply academic, success of the student body. On the first Friday of school, sixth and seventh years who have maintained a high standard of conduct, are rewarded with an evening of merriment in Hogsmeade.

Now that Rose is seeing it for herself, after years of mystery and secrecy, she's pretty certain it can be more easily defined as a night of mischief and drunkenness.

She tells Roxy several times on their walk to Hogsmeade that she'd much rather just stay behind but her cousin is relentless in her desire for excitement and so Rose reluctantly follows. She's smoothing her pale pink skirt at the pleats as they walk and her collar already seems too uptight for the venues of Hogsmeade.

She's also starting to regret wearing the white blouse.

Roxy's skirt is red, or rather a more faded maroon that flows around her thighs, showing just a peek of her warm skin before her black socks begin right above her knees. She pairs it with a denim jacket that she often wears when not in uniform. Rose has never got on much with denim. Roxy agrees though still tries to get her into anything besides pastels.

But Rose likes pastels, pink in particular.

"Try to relax," Roxy whispers from her left and Rose gives her a look. "What? I'm just saying it won't kill you to let down your hair and enjoy a night out."

Rose inspects the auburn curls settled around her shoulders. They frizz slightly at the humidity still clinging to the summer air and she frowns.

"My hair is down," she says and Roxy shakes her head.

"Just try to be normal. Your homework is done, your bed is made, you have no responsibilities except to get properly hammered tonight."

"I don't think I'll have much time to get drunk whilst holding your hair back," she replies and Roxy gives her an impressed smile.

"I love Sarcastic Rose," she says, grabbing hold of her hand. Their polished nails contrast in color.

"Just promise me you'll take it easy," says Rose, looking around at the crowds of students around them, most as eager - if not more - than Roxy. "And if you spend the entire night making out with Lorcan in the corner of some pub I'm walking back to the dorms alone."

"Lory and I aren't currently speaking," she admits and Rose frowns. "So you don't have to worry about that."

"Again?" Rose asks, rolling her eyes. "What now?"

"He's got his wand in a knot because I didn't come watch him at Quidditch trials," Roxy starts and Rose has heard this argument before. "I mean I appreciate that he comes out to cheer me on and everything but, to put it frankly, he's just not that exciting to watch on the field. It's not like he's going to play professionally or anything."

"I hope you didn't tell him that," Rose says and Roxy shrugs. "Rox, I can't believe you. He's a guy and guys are sensitive. You've probably wounded his pride."

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side!" Roxy says, pouting. "And anyways, if he can't be secure enough in his masculinity to take a criticism from his girlfriend, then I'm not sure he's the guy for me."

"Oh please," Rose replies. "You love having him wrapped around your finger."

"Maybe," is all she says, hiding a smile. "Enough about him. Let's talk about who we are going to find for you to flirt with tonight."

"Hey! You promised!"

"I promised nothing."

"What about all that empowerment stuff you're always spouting," Rose reminds her and Roxy smiles. "I don't need a man to make me happy, or whatever."

"Be an empowered woman, my love. But also, don't be so uptight all the time. It's time to move on from Salomon."

Rose doesn't reply because Roxy knows her well enough to see the guilt in her eyes. The break-up with Sal was long overdue and despite her attraction to him, she simply couldn't tolerate his arrogance any longer. She isn't one for stereotypes in general but there simply is something to be said about Ravenclaw boys and their egos.

She's infuriated that she's still slightly hung up on his absence.

"Maybe it's just boys in general," Rose says. "I feel like every guy at Hogwarts is too busy trying to get laid to be a decent human being."

"Careful now or you'll start sounding like Malfoy," Roxy says, followed by a laugh.

They're approaching the village and Rose can see the train station up ahead, but she feels curiosity rising as she slows her steps slightly to pry more out of the girl.

"Did Dom really hook up with her in Majorca?" she asks and Roxy sighs.

"For Head Girl, our cousin certainly can be as thick as a rock sometimes," she answers. "I told her it was a bad idea and but she wouldn't listen. I blame it on the prolonged sunshine." She pauses. "Or the herb."

"Speaking of, you know they found nothing in Malfoy's dorm." Roxy perks at Rose's words. "The Heads barged in there with Slughorn and the 7th year prefects, and not one thing showed up under investigation."

"Good thing too," Roxy says, looking lighter. "I may not like the girl but I would have felt like total shit if she'd have gotten pinched."

"Well I voted against it, not entirely for your benefit because Merlin knows you would have deserved to be in trouble for taking such a risk in the first place," Rose says and she's frowning, hoping Roxy will see that she's serious. "But also because I think even Malfoy deserves a break. I don't understand why everyone can't just leave her alone, you know?"

"Some people can't be helped, Rosie. The entire 6th year loves to hate her and she eats it up. Just look how she treats James. She lives for the attention."

"So much for women empowerment," Rose grumbles and Roxy snickers at her side.

"I did say I _love_ to hate her. I think it's kind of great that she doesn't take anyone's shit. I just think she takes it to a whole different level. I personally don't see how Albus can stand being friends with her. She doesn't seem particularly warm, or caring for that matter."

"You're wrong, she cares about herself." The voice comes from behind her but she knows it's Davy even before he wraps his arms around both of their shoulders and both she and Roxy groan. "You ladies ready for your First...First Friday?" He stumbles on the word 'first' and it all sounds awkward but Rose tries to force a smile as she pries his arm off of her.

"Go away, Davy," Roxy says when Rose can't muster it. "We don't need a tour guide."

"Suit yourselves," he shrugs, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lighting it. Before he can place it to his lips Bas snatches it and take the first hit.

Rose hates smoking but she can't help but watch every ring that escapes Bas' lips as he exhales. Her eyes linger a little too long as she watches the way he licks his lips that curl up into a wild grin. He doesn't notice Rose's extended interest but Roxy does and she delivers a gentle elbow to Rose's rib cage in response.

Bas is off limits, as are all of James' friends. It's a pact they made several years prior that Rose sometimes wishes she never made. James' friends are notorious womanizers, though more often than they'd care to admit their reputation has caused many of the upperclassmen women to steer clear of them. She and Roxy agreed that any involvement would degrade them to additions to the boys' trophy cases.

And anyways, Bas only has eyes for Dom. Which is unfortunate for Bas.

"Come on, Rosie. Let's go before people think we're associated with these idiots," Roxy says, pulling her off towards the opposite side of High Street as they make their way down to the Three Broomsticks.

She glances one last time over her shoulder at Bas who is lighting James' cigarette without speaking the words for the magic that comes out of his wand. She's only mildly put out when he doesn't look back.

 **-19:45-**

First Friday already feels like a bust and they've been at the Three Broomsticks for only about forty-five minutes. She has one butterbeer while Roxy downs three shots of Firewhiskey. Rose only pretends to drink hers but spells it away when Roxy closes her eyes to pour the liquid down her throat.

Lorcan is moping at the bar next to Sedgewick Li. Every few minutes she notices him glance over at Roxy hopefully but the girl is determined to ignore him. Several other sixth year girls are crowded together in various booths, some have already had too much to drink and she wonders why no one ever taught them how to pace themselves.

Roxy is completely engrossed in conversation with Valerie Thomas, or pretends to be, but Rose stops listening when the girl won't shut up about James. It's obvious the girl is having some issues moving on, despite her new relationship with Preston Corner. It's an act of desperation, Rose can see that as can pretty much everyone else in Gryffindor who has eyes. James and Preston don't get on and Valerie thinks it's the best way to show that she doesn't care about him ending things.

Only it's that act in itself that shows she does care. Quite a bit.

She's saved from excusing herself to the loo for a reason to get away when Albus sits down across from her.

"Albus," she says, surprised. He's alone, which is rare, because aside from family events and prefect meetings, he's hardly without Thea at his side. Even then they rarely talk because Albus is usually content to keep to himself for the most part.

He notices when she looks around when he laughs quietly.

"She's at the bar," he explains and she doesn't hide her curious glance to the bar where Thea worms her way gently in front of Bas and Davy.

"I don't think I expected to see either of you out tonight," Rose says, making conversation.

"Why? Because Slytherins aren't supposed to come out of the dungeons?" he says and she opens her mouth slowly to respond or apologize but as she's deciding which he lets out a laugh. "I'm only kidding," he says. "If you can believe it, I dragged Thea here."

She laughs because he's right. If anything Albus looks much more like the one dragged out.

"She certainly doesn't look to be miserable," she notes, glancing back over to where Thea stands, pulling a cigarette from Bas' lips and takes a drag of her own. Rose feels something sink slightly in her stomach.

"She adapts well," he says fondly, not taking his friend. As always Albus sounds mysterious and it's part of what makes him interesting she supposes and she forces an obligatory laugh.

"So you two, have you guys ever…" she says, trailing off as Albus' lips curl at the edges in amusement. "Nevermind. Not my business."

"No."

"No?" she asks because she's not entirely sure what he means.

"No, it's not your business, or anyone's really." He's not being mean, she realizes. He's just agreeing with her in his very Albus manner and she nods. "But also, no, we haven't ' _ever_ '," he adds and she let's out a tense breath. "That's not what we are, her and I."

"Oh?" she asks because she can't help but be curious. The entire family is curious because why else would he follow around someone like Theodora Malfoy. But this time he doesn't give in to her curiosity as he shifts slightly in his seat so a body can sit down next to him.

"Here you are, darling," Thea says, handing him a pint of something dark and foamy and she presses her red lips to Albus' cheek.

Rose is surprised when a red lip mark appears on his skin. Most witches use glammar spells for such things but for some reason Thea's lipstick must be muggle-made.

Albus doesn't wipe it off.

"Thank you," he replies and they toast to something in latin before bring their glasses to their lips and Rose feels suddenly very out of place.

She wants to believe her cousin, that there is nothing going on between them but their intimacy looks as natural and easy as breathing air. Thea's kiss, Albus' fingers that sometimes twist in the edges of her dark brown hair, the way they speak without speaking.

It's only interrupted when Dom approaches slowly and stands, waiting for Thea to notice that she's there. It's several moments before she does and Thea lets out a single laugh.

"Did you plan a Potter-Weasley family reunion while I was gone, Al?" She asks and Rose realizes now that they are indeed surrounded by her family.

"Can we talk?" Dom asks and Thea sips her beer, waiting for something. Albus nudges her and she sighs, putting her beer on the table and stands.

"I'll only be a moment," Thea tells Albus and he nods, the expression in his face changing as he watches her leave out the front door. Dom follows.

"So…." Rose speculates. "That...happened then?"

Albus only shrugs.

"What about you, Rosie?" he asks, changing the subject and she realizes when he says it she feels very much like a child again. "You ever going to talk to Bas?"

She's flustered as she chokes mid-sip into her butterbeer and he grins at her sputtering. It's no use trying to deny it, just like with Rose, but still she can't resist shaking her head and an awkward laugh comes out that matches the heat in her cheeks.

"You know what? I think I'm going to go get another drink," she says, rising too quickly and she leaves him grinning mischievously on the couch next to Roxy who is consoling a tearful Val.

She opts for the opposite side of where Bas is standing with James and Davy even though she's pretty sure they're too tipsy to really notice her if she did. She's standing for several minutes behind a handful of Hufflepuff seventh years and the bartender doesn't look up at her once. Why would he, she thinks, annoyed at her behavior with Albus only moments earlier. Though she doesn't feel any fondness for Thea she secretly envies her confidence. She may not be the nicest girl she's ever met, but she certainly would know how to respond better than spitting in her butterbeer and running away if someone asked her about a boy...or a girl for that matter.

"Need some help?" a voice says from next to her and she turns to see that several more people have crowded in front of her and at this rate she's never going to get a drink. For some reason this is why Scorpius Malfoy takes notice.

Or pity.

"Oh," is all she can say because what the hell is she supposed to say to someone like Scorpius Malfoy.

His brow furrows. "Sorry, it's a bit loud in here, was that a _no_ or…"

"No...I mean…" She hates that she has anxiety. Hates that she sounds like an idiot. "Shit, I just mean. Yes!" she says finally. "Yes, help would be nice." She has no idea what she's saying but for some reason he smiles and despite herself she smiles back as well.

"What do you like?" She isn't sure how to answer. "To drink," he adds and realization washes over her.

"I uh, I don't know actually," she admits because she only ever drinks butterbeer and she doesn't think she'll being having another. She leans over to see what is in front of him. "What do you drink here."

To her surprise, he seems flustered as well.

"I uh, I don't. Drink, that is. Not normally. It's just tonic." He points to the clear liquid, bubbles dancing to the top.

"Tonic," she repeats. "Okay, one...tonic for me too, please."

His eyes linger on her for an extra moment, his lips twitching at the corners as he turns then and looks at the bartender. The bartender doesn't ignore him because Scorpius Malfoy commands attention where Rose is hardly noticed. It's impossible to ignore his imposing stance, the tall boy with the flaxen hair and blue eyes. No, not boy, she thinks. Scorpius is many things but he is certainly not a boy. He is very much a man and she wonders if that is why she suddenly feels very small under his gaze.

The wizard behind the bar waves his wand as Scorpius says the words that look like "tonic" and "please" and before she can count to five the pint glass filled with fizzing clear liquid appears in Scorpius' hand. He turns, once again squeezing through the small group of Hufflepuff girls and Rose is certain the girls are making it more difficult this time upon seeing who it is their bodies are pressing up against.

"One tonic water," he says when he's finally free and Rose takes it with a gracious smile.

"Thanks," she says quietly, clearing her throat when she realizes she sounds small and says it again. "Thanks, again. For this." Scorpius shifts slightly, grinning down at her as well and he nods. "I uh, I guess I should get back."

"Oh," he is the one saying this time and she pauses. "I just mean, I don't think your friend needs looking after at the moment." He points to a place over Rose's shoulder.

Rose turns to see Albus has abandoned his ale. It sits only half full next to Thea's which is near the brim. Roxy is no longer preoccupied with taking care of Valerie. Her lips are attached to Lorcan's, his hand buried in her thick curls and hers are clutching to his blue knit jumper like a woman starved.

She expected this and still the sight still annoys her slightly. Rose wants so badly to be independent of her cousin. Roxy is not just her family, she's her best friend. But suddenly she feels very much the hypocrite for judging Albus and Thea's attachment when all she does is depend on Roxy in social situations.

Once again she's left alone alone.

No, not alone, she remembers. She's standing with Scorpius and he's being nice like always and still it surprises her. She wonders how it's possible that he and his sister are related.

"I supposed I'll being waiting here a while," she mumbles, sighing as she turns back to the bar with her tonic water and she sips at it.

"I'm happy to walk you back if you'd rather not stay," Scorpius offers quietly and she's flattered by his response but immediately shakes her head.

"No," she says. He looks disappointed. "I really should stay and wait. They'll come up for air eventually."

"Well in that case," he offers. "Do you mind if I wait with you? I have a feeling you may need someone to order you another tonic shortly." He points to her glass, nearing half empty.

She's not entirely sure why he's offering to stay and she wonders briefly if it's because he feels sorry for her. She's alone on First Friday and there is still another two hours before curfew. His best friend his making out with hers and Sedge is nowhere to be seen. He's just as alone as she is, she realizes, and despite her reservations she feels herself nodding.

"Sure," she says. "That would be nice."

She's never seen someone look as happy as he does in that moment. And she thinks, perhaps, it might not be pity after all.

* * *

 **THEA**

 **(FIRST FRIDAY)**

 **-19:45-**

"Why did I let you drag me out again?" she asks, looping her arm through Albus' as they are escorted out of the Hog's Head pub.

"Well I didn't think we'd get kicked out, for one," he explains and the man behind them grunts in amusement. "You do know it's 'First Friday,' right?" Albus is looking at the old man, tall and standing over them with his arms crossed.

"Precisely why we don't want any of your lot in here, making trouble for the rest of us who'd prefer some peace and quiet."

"For the record," Thea says, speaking up to the man. "Al and I are the quiet type. We don't fall in with any of…" she pauses, turning to point out a group of sixth years laughing loudly a few doors down. She's embarrassed to be associated with them by default. "We're mature."

The man laughs.

"Sure thing, sweetheart,"the man chuckles. "Come back when you've matured a bit longer."

With that they're left outside, the door slamming behind them and she narrows her eyes at Albus.

"This night can still be salvaged," he says, attempting to lift her spirits but she only frowns.

"You could have told them you were Harry Potter's kid," she says. "Maybe he would have let us stay."

"No," Albus says, shaking his head.

"Always no," she grumbles.

"Should we try your name next time, then?" he asks. "See what kind of special treatment the name _Malfoy_ gets us?"

"Well there's certainly a difference," she says.

They walk in silence until they reach mid High Street and Albus stops in front of the Three Broomsticks. There's a large crowd, she can tell by the loud voices, the music is loud and she already feels the pull to continue up the road and back to the castle. But Albus looks hopeful.

"Really?" she asks. Her frown deepens. "You can't be serious."

"One drink," he pleads. "Then I swear we can go back up the castle and you can subject me to whatever form of entertainment you choose."

"Careful, Albus," she says. "You remember what happened last time you volunteered."

"Okay," he says, the word drawn out. "You can subject me to whatever form of entertainment you choose, except Transfiguration practice."

She contemplates this because she knows she desperately does not want to be here. But she knows Albus does and saying no would be selfish. She toys with the idea for several moments but she can't bring herself to say no when she nods.

"One, drink. And then we're out of here. I don't want people to think I'm actually here to have fun."

"I doubt anyone would jump to that conclusion," he says and she slaps him lightly on the arm as they walk towards the pub.

It's more crowded than she realizes and she immediately feels anxious as she sees the crowded booths and tables. People are jostling for the bartender's attention and despite the ease magic provides, there are still several drunken teenagers vying for another drink.

"I'll get the drinks," she says because she can't imagine trying to get someone to move without causing a scenel. Albus doesn't mind and it's probably for the best because when he's wearing his black v-neck he looks decidedly less Slytherin. He looks vaguely like James. And girls treat Albus very differently when he looks like James.

They part ways and she can see, despite the difficulty some are having, that she should have no trouble getting the drinks. She finds a space and starts to squeeze easily between crowded bodies. She ignores their complaints because if they want a drink they should put in more effort. She places herself between two taller young men, not realizing until she's slipped in front of one that said two men are Bas and Davy. Neither seem particularly interested in an argument without James there to instigate and so she takes the opportunity to flash them both her best smile.

Their subsequent smiles in return make it clear that they're high.

"Good Evening, Gentlemen," she says, hailing the bartender with a quick glance towards him and he nods, finishing up with the customer in front of him.

It's Dom.

She looks away quickly, back to Bas who stands between her and a conversation she's not ready to have yet so she angles herself so that her back is facing where Dom and her brother are talking lightly.

"Someone let you out of your cage, I see," Bas says with a glint in his eye and she lets herself smile at his joke. She thinks if it were for James, she might actually be able to tolerate Bas.

"Don't worry," she tells him. "They've kept me on my leash," she explains, pointing over to where Albus is sitting with Rose Weasley and he lets out a laugh.

"And all this time I thought he was the one who was always on _your_ leash," he says and she knows he tries to sound like he's teasing, despite the fact that he means it. They all do.

She pulls the cigarette from his mouth, her hazel eyes locked on his as she brings it to her lips. She breaths in, a long drag and the nicotine of the muggle cigarettes tastes briefly like heaven. The smoke comes out slowly, away from him but still her eyes don't move and she can feel him take an involuntary step towards her as their hips meet, flush.

"Jealous that it's not _you_ on my leash," she says and he chuckles, placing his hands on the bar behind her.

The bartender interrupts her for only a moment as she asks for two beers and returns her gaze to Bas who is doing his best to look smooth when he says, "Not in your wildest dreams, Malfoy."

She takes another hit. Eyeing him, unblinking. Then, she leans into him, smirking at the way his jaw flinches as she moves in towards him and she places her lips next to his ear, her lipstick grazing his skin slightly.

"No, Sebastian," she whispers. "Only in yours."

He doesn't speak as she places the cigarette back in his mouth and he looks flustered as she turns to grab the beers. By the time she is squeezing her way back through the crowd she notices James has returned and pauses short of the bar to eye the two of them curiously.

She winks.

When she joins Albus and Rose, they're both engrossed in a conversation that's causing Albus to frown. Thea thinks maybe her timing is good because Albus smiles when he sees her and she places a beer in his hand a kiss on his cheek to cheer him up.

Rose looks curious and it's obvious why. It's what they all wonder when they see Thea and Albus. The same reason Bas jokes about Al on her leash. The same reason James started this whole thing between them to begin with. But it's none of their business, no matter how badly they want to know.

The silence is awkward, but only for a moment because then things get infinitely worse when she realizes someone is standing to her right. She looks up to see Dom, standing there in a yellow jumper and white pants and she tries to ignore the fact that she looks beautiful. Thea, like Bas moments earlier, tries to play off her discomfort with a laugh.

"Did you plan a Potter-Weasley family reunion while I was gone, Al?" She asks and he chuckles, realizing they are now surrounded by several of his cousins, including Roxanne who is engrossed in Valerie Thomas' tales of woe.

"Can we talk?" Dom asks and Thea's stomach tightens. She places the glass to her lips, willing the liquid to take quick effect when Albus nudges her.

She sighs, realizing that she is going to have to face this sober and she places her beer on the table where Albus' feet are propped. She gives him a look and hopes he understands how much she's dreading this as she says, "I'll only be a moment."

He nods. He understands.

She doesn't speak to Dom until they are outside. It's dark and they stand near a lamppost that burns bright enough that Thea can see that Dom looks nervous too. The silence goes on far too long for Thea's comfort but she also has no intentions of speaking first as she watches Dom search for the words she wants to use.

"Thea," she says and her name off the girl's lips stings. But the pain the words does not betray Thea's stoney expression. "I'm sure he told you…" Thea scoffs.

"Told me that you tried to sell me out to the Prefects?" she suggests and Dom's eyes fall to the ground. "I actually figured that one out on my own, thanks," she says. "I'm not sure what surprised me the most, the fact that you tried to pin me for the drugs or that you were willing to let me believe it was your cousin who ratted me out."

"It wasn't like that," says Dom and even she doesn't believe the lie that comes out quietly. "Of course I thought you'd suspect James. You two hate each other. I didn't see what harm it could do. It's not like you could hate each other more than you already do."

"You didn't see the harm?" is all she can ask because she's not in the mood for mind games. She wants answers. "What about the drugs, did you see the harm in that?"

"It wasn't meant to go that way. But it happened so fast and I wish I could take it back, I really do. I was so embarrassed when we showed up in your room for the search."

" _You_ were embarrassed?" Thea couldn't believe the girl had the nerve. "My privacy was invaded because your friends couldn't keep their mouths shut. Let me guess. One of them, all of them...they got caught with it. You had to find someone to blame, of course, because they're your friends. You can't be seen allowing contraband to infiltrate the school. But instead of blaming the people responsible, you thought you'd blame me. Because I'm disposable."

"Thea," Dom says and she sounds angry now, but she doesn't have the right to be angry.

"You called me a mistake, Dominique," says Thea and Dom's eyes dance away again because she's a coward. "And what's worse, you never even told me why."

"Why, what?" she asks when she is able to meet Thea's eyes and there are tears in them.

Something pulls at Thea.

"Why wasn't I good enough."

"That's not fair," Dom says. "I never said that you weren't good enough."

"You didn't have to. It was in your eyes when you said I was _just a mistake_." Thea sees that the words make Dom uncomfortable and despite the pain in her chest she can't help but twist the knife a little further. "I shouldn't have been all that surprised. Knowing how your family feels about me, about my friendship with Albus. I'm sure you couldn't stomach the idea of telling them what we did."

The look in Dom's eyes confirm Thea's assumption and the plan backfires because the only one the knife of Thea's words twists deeper into, is herself.

"I cared for you." Thea hates the way Dom uses the past tense. "That was real, Thea," she says, taking a step forward and Thea tries to take a step back but she can't.

Dom places a hand on her cheek and there is a lump in Thea's throat that begins to grow. Her eyes close at the feeling, so familiar and yet so excruciating. She wants to scream, to tell Dom she's selfish and hurtful. To tell her she's a hypocrite for pushing Thea away because of what people think about her when Dom's the one with the secrets and the lies. They've both got secrets she thinks and she's thankful that she never shared hers with Dom.

"I'm sorry," are the words Dom says next and it's like a punch to the gut to Thea who struggles to find her breath. The lump grows and it's heavy and wretched and Thea knows screaming is out of the question now because she can barely breathe. "I truly am sorry for hurting you. Both this summer and with the Prefects. I was scared and I panicked. And I was wrong."

 _I was wrong_ , Thea repeats in her mind and she is too much of a coward to ask about which part.

Thea's eyes are still closed when she feels lips on hers. They are soft and cold from the night air. Thea's lips respond, her body like a recurring reverie as she feels herself lulled into the moment. She's transported to the island, to the hot stickiness of summer and the taste of Dom's skin against her mouth.

But suddenly there's salt, and Thea's reaction is so abrupt as she steps back that she nearly falls over. She stumbles on some unknown piece of rubbish on the ground and she is shaking her head as she places her fingers over her lips. Dom's eyes reflect the ache in Thea's heart.

"Don't," she whispers into the darkness. "Don't, do that."

"Thea," she whispers and for the first time she looks up to see that the salt she assumed were Dom's tears are not Dom's at all.

They belong to Thea.

"Just. Leave me alone," she says, her voice raised and Dom nods, looking downtrodden as she starts off on the long road up towards the school. She doesn't look back as Thea watches her leave.

She's not used to this, but perhaps she should be by now. She spent the summer lusting after a beautiful girl like Dom. Of course she was heartbroken when things ended the way they did. But she hates that she's been relegated to this person. To tears that remind her over and over that she was a mistake. That she wasn't good enough.

Of rejection.

She spend the next five minutes alone and in the dark as she wipes them away, evidence of her weakness smothered over red eyes and windswept cheeks. She steadies her breathing and straightens her black blouse.

She pulls herself together because she refuses to let them see her this way.

She's no longer interested in abiding Al's desire for folly and she decides to walk up the castle alone. He won't mind, she tries to tell herself but her feet won't move more than a few steps before she's staring back at the tavern door. He will mind, she thinks. He'll mind that she left him and he'd want her to wait, because he hates when she walks back alone.

She's stepping back, intending to wait over by the tree where the lamppost hangs and she is stopped by the force of a body knocking into her. Her head collides with another, foreheads that cause both parties to groan, and she hears a sickening crunch that causes her to cringe.

"Bloody Hell!" the familiar voice shouts and she loses her balance as she falls to the ground, glancing up at the person in question to see James Potter, holding his nose as he too stumbles back at the force.

He wobbles, holding his face as he reaches down to help her and she stares at his hand for several moments because that's how long it takes for him to realize who she is. He's drunk, it's the only reason he lends his hand but he immediately lets it fall back to his side when recognition washes over him. He's shaking his head when their eyes meet, blood now dripping from beneath his hand.

"Of-bloody-course," he says, his voice slightly muffled by his hand.

"You can't seriously believe I did that on purpose, Potter," Thea says, struggling to stand and she steps slightly into the shadows, hoping to hide the redness in her eyes.

"Let's just say it wouldn't surprise me," he answers and she swallows, trying to relieve the fading lump in her throat.

"I'm not going to do this tonight," she says, her voice tired and he laughs, the sound harsh.

"Because I came out here hoping to break my own nose?"

She shakes her head, pulling her wand from her jacket pocket and he takes a step back and she rolls her eyes. He reaches for his wand, clumsily. If she wanted to disarm him, hex him, really hurt him. She could have done it ten times by the time he finally gets it out and has it pointed at her.

"I'm going to fix it, you idiot." She hold her hands out, her wand staring at the ground.

"You're not pointing that thing at me."

"I know the spell. It will only sting for a second…" she starts but she doesn't even have a moment to explain before James is muttering something under her breath and her wand flies out of her hand and into his.

She stares at him and it must be for a while because now that both of his hands are preoccupied the blood drips down his face. He wipes his lips with the sleeve of his stupid red jumper and she feels her blood beginning to boil. Her eyes sting but she ignores it as she walks towards him slowly.

"How dare you," she whispers. "Give it back."

"No."

"James Potter, you give me back my wand or so help me I'll-"

"What? Break my nose again?"

"Me breaking your nose will be a fond memory in comparison," she says and closes the gap between them as she reaches to snatch her wand back but he holds it over her head. Her eyes close in frustration. "This isn't a game. Give me. My wand."

He's drunk and it's the only reason he's not in as much pain as he will be once he sobers up so he smiles and that glint in his eye returns and she immediately regrets offering to help him in the first place.

"Well I'm sure if you asked nicely."

Her teeth clench under the pressure of her jaw.

"Not tonight, Jamie. I'm not in the mood." She realizes immediately calling him _Jamie_ doesn't help the situation because he takes it as an invitation to continue arguing with her.

"Well I'm never in the mood for you, Malfoy," he says, his voice low. "Now, how about that little bitty _please_ and we'll both be on our way?"

Once again she's driven to frustration as she looks up at him, standing over her as she strains her neck to look up at him. He no longer seems concerned over the blood on his face or the fact that his nose is slightly crooked because he's grinning like an idiot and Thea feels only fury.

"Wait a second," he whispers and the hand that holds her wand lower slowly as his eyes are dancing over her face. "Are you...are you crying?" he asks and she reaches up to wipe her face again, cursing herself for not fixing her red eyes when she had the chance. "This is priceless," he says with a laugh.

If she had her wand she'd hex him into next week. But seeing as she doesn't, she raises her fist and lets it collide with his face. This time, she doesn't cringe when she hears a slight crunch.

He falls back, this time unable to stop himself as he hits the ground, crying out in pain and her wand falls next to him.

"Thea!" From the look on her best friend's face it's clear he's chosen that exact moment to come outside.

"It's not what it looks like," she says and she hates that she sounds like a cliche.

x


	4. Chapter 4

x

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Four:

 _Of Potions and Palm Readings_

* * *

 **THEA/JAMES**

"I am going to be direct, Miss Malfoy. I expect an honest answer and will not tolerate being lied to. Now, tell me. Did you break James Potter's nose on purpose?"

"I most certainly did not. I was trying to help. He was the one who disarmed me for no reason."

* * *

"Did you, or did you not, disarm Theodora Malfoy with malintention?"

"Professor, no. Absolutely not. She tried to attack _me_."

* * *

"There are four witnesses who can attest that you struck Mr. Potter in the face, which led to his current state. Do you refute their claim?"

"No Professor but-"

"Then _please_ tell me why I should believe that you had no intention of bringing harm to the boy?"

"His nose was already broken. I tried to fix it. That's _why_ I had my wand out to begin with."

* * *

"She claims she was trying to fix your nose. That running into you was an accident."

"Of course she says that. She's trying to save her skin. She pointed her wand at me, after she broke my nose because she was angry."

* * *

"I was not angry, Professor. I was upset. There is a difference."

"And what, may I ask, were you upset about?"

"I'd rather not discuss that."

"Theodora..."

"Professor, I was upset. I was outside to calm myself. I turned back to join Albus and accidentally ran into James Potter. I was absolutely not angry with him - at the time. Contrary to what he may believe, my world does not revolve around him."

* * *

"Of course she was angry with me! She punched me in the bloody face."

"But only _after_ you took her wand, from what I understand."

"I had to defend myself."

* * *

"Defend himself from what? I told him I could fix his nose and then I would have been on my way. Bone repair is level two healing magic. I've done the spell countless times. It would have been seamless. Probably better than his original, even. He just wouldn't listen because he was drunk."

* * *

"Were you intoxicated at the time, Mr. Potter?"

"I-"

"Answer carefully."

"I had a few beers at the pub. But I had enough when I was about to leave. That's when she attacked me for no reason."

* * *

"No reason?! He said I punched him for _no reason_?"

"Yes, Miss. Malfoy, those were the words he used."

"Of _course_. He refused to give me my wand, for starts. He thought it was one big bloody joke."

"Language please."

"Apologies. You just don't understand what he does to my temper."

"Oh, I am quite aware, dear."

* * *

 **THEA**

She's sitting outside Professor McGonagall's office with her arms crossed, pretending not to notice James who is sitting across from her. She's not sure why the two of them alone but she thinks it might have been a mistake because she's ready to strangle him when she's finished her interviews with the Headmaster. He's close enough that she could kick him if she tried. But she doesn't. She refuses.

James is smug, sitting there with a small smile on his lips because he thinks he's won. There are witnesses, he's probably thinking, and they all saw her hit him in the square in the nose with rage in her eyes. But one of those witnesses is Albus and she knows that no matter what he thinks he saw, he wouldn't get her in trouble. She hasn't had a chance to explain to him but she knows she'll have to later.

McGonagall knows Albus would never speak out against her, however. But she also knows that regardless of who they are, the other three witnesses will likely corroborate James' story because Thea's popularity is still at an all time low. She's not sure if their stories would be any different had they stepped out a few moments sooner. But unfortunately by the time anyone was around to bear witness, he had already pushed her to her breaking point.

She still hates that she lost control.

Her father has probably been notified by now and she already knows what he'll say.

 _Control, Theodora. You must keep your cool. You cannot allow others to provoke you into such behavior._

His voice is clear in her mind, because she's heard it before. He's said it more times than she'd care to admit, every time he's been notified about an incident between herself and James. And it's always James.

 _Why are you able to control your temper with everyone else? Why him?_

But she can't answer that question. She doesn't know, _why him_. Why James. She can't pinpoint the reason he gets under her skin. There is nothing special about him in particular, nothing original about his taunts. They're all the same and he's just the same as all the others who whisper behind her back.

And just like the others, it should be simple to ignore him.

But she can't. Just like she can't ignore the tapping of his foot as he sits in the chair across from her and she glares at it. It's dancing boredly against the floor, the scuffed shoe and his overstretched socks that are starting to droop down just above his ankles.

"Can you control your foot?" she says, her voice clear but drenched in impatience as she sighs heavily.

He stops, only long enough to process what she has said before he continues. If possible, it's louder than before. He meets her eyes and his brown orbs pierce hers with amusement. With challenge because he wants to bait her.

She would love to hex him, but despite the fact that both of their wants had been temporarily confiscated during their interviews, she also desperately just wants to go to bed. Sleep deprivation isn't just bad for her complexion, it also causes worse things, worse things than James Potter and his incessant fidgeting.

The only thing she can muster is a scoff as she looks in the other direction.

"So what _were_ you crying about anyways?" he asks, his words so casual any naive passerbyer might think the two had no issues with civility. And yet, Thea can hear his taunt, dripping from his words,.

"I wasn't crying," she replies.

He ignores her lie, shrugs as he crosses his left leg over his right. "I didn't even realize you _could_ cry."

"I _wasn't_ crying." she says again, her anger rising as the words are ground out through her teeth. Still he ignores her.

"Well I guess everyone cries about something," he replies contemplatively. "I just never expected you of all people…"

"Why? Because I don't have a soul?" She's pretty sure he couldn't be more condescending if he tried.

"I'm still not entirely convinced."

She sighs. "I hate you."

"Right, of course, but more importantly…" he pauses, placing his hand to his jaw in contemplation. "Have _I_ ever made you cry?"

"I wasn't crying!"

Her fists clutch the sides of the wooden chair and she's ready to refresh his memory of what it's like to feel her fist against his flesh. But her tantrum is interrupted as the door to the Headmaster's office opens and McGonagall walks out. She crooks a finger at the both of them and Thea is quick to rise and escape any more prolonged conversations with James Potter that she briefly forgets to feign a look of boredom. She hopes McGonagall doesn't notice that she was moments away from repeating her transgression.

Professors Slughorn and Longbottom are standing near her desk, waiting in their nightrobes. Neither looks particularly pleased to be out of bed at this hour. Slughorn's wrinkles look exceedingly more defined under the the low lighting that is Hogwarts castle at night. Longbottom's disheveled hair makes her smirk.

The door closing behind her has a sobering effect as she realizes she and James are still in trouble and no amount of explanation will get her off the hook for punching James in the face. But it was worth a try.

"After much discussion, your heads of house and I have combed through your statements and we all agree that both of your actions were inexcusable and childish." The woman glances towards James. "Mr. Potter, you as a Prefect, are held to a higher standard than the expectations of the general student body. I gave you that badge, hoping that your display of integrity and self-restraint would keep you from ending up in situations like this. For blatant display of drunken behavior and ungentlemanly conduct towards a fellow student, fifty points from Gryffindor. And you are suspended from the office of Prefect for two weeks. That includes all Prefect privileges."

Thea wants to smile but she doesn't because she knows her punishment is coming next. Though there is a distinct pleasure in watching the way his jaw flexes in frustration. He'll blame Thea for this, fueling his continued rage for her.

"Miss Malfoy, I implore you to channel that self-control you seem to have mastered with every _other_ student encounter into your future encounters with Mr. Potter, here. While I understand the circumstances that lead to your actions, it does not excuse the fact that those actions were in direct violation of our code of conduct. I expect more from someone whose skills in problem solving have been a constant area of recognition amongst your professors. So, for resorting to violence, no matter the reason, I must deduct 40 points from Slytherin."

She doesn't protest because she doesn't see how that will help her now. She knows the other Slytherins will only be slightly vexed at the loss of points once they hear she was only punished for giving James a broken nose. No doubt Albus is already spreading the news.

"I am disappointed in the both of you. This behavior will stop or I will be forced to take more extreme actions. This, whatever _this_ animosity you two hold over one another is, _will_ end. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor," she and James say at the same time and the woman sighs.

"You are both banned from the next Hogsmeade excursion-" James groans but is stopped short by McGonagall's piercing gaze. "And you will sit detention with Professor Binns all of next week. Hopefully it will deter you from ending up in my office again."

"Yes, Professor," they say again, in unison.

"Now to bed, with the both of you."

There is only silence as they all exit the office and she and James part ways, escorted by their Heads of House. She can finally breathe when he and his ego disappear behind stone walls and she is left only in the company of Professor Slughorn.

He's shaking his head because he expects more.

"I expect more from you, Theodora." Internally she's cringing at his predictability.

"I know, professor. And I take responsibility for my actions."

"I understand that it is difficult, being associated with such ancestry." Her annoyance is not internalized this time as her fists ball slightly at her sides. "But your brother seems to have no issue fitting in with the other students."

"My brother is an exceptional wizard, Professor. He does not allow things like, familial ties to hold him back from achieving his goals."

Professor Slughorn, while exceedingly kind, has never been good at catching on with social cues. He does not hear the edge in her voice, the sarcasm dripping from her tongue. She assumes despite his age that he's always been this way.

"Don't be modest. You, too, are an exceptional witch, child. By why is it _you_ have such an issue acclimating?"

"Why should I acclimate?" she asks, her voice steady. "Everyone is so bothered because I'm a Malfoy, and yet every Slytherin here can trace their family back to one dark wizard or another."

"Yes, this is unfortunately true. And yet, the other students do not perpetuate the attitude of upholding certain... _attributes_ associated with those ancestors. Do you understand my meaning?"

Thea stops halfway down the spiraling steps and he is several steps below her before he realizes she is no longer following. He looks up at her, questioning.

"Professor, the moment I walked into Hogwarts, the other students had already made up their minds about me. They assumed, despite contradiction to common logic, that I was the result of some insidious time-traveling plot to uphold some dark tradition exaggerated by rumors surrounding my family's downfall in my father's youth. Do you understand what it is like to have your legitimacy constantly in question? To have people believe you are destined to be evil because of baseless rumors? To be thought of as the bastard daughter of Lord Voldemort?"

Slughorn doesn't answer except for a few shifts of discomfort. He doesn't like the name and never has and she knows that is a product of the times. Lord Voldemort was a monster and the rumors flying around in her earlier years at Hogwarts made her a monster as well. And despite hers and Albus' attempts at redeeming her reputation, and that of her family, still they looked at her with apprehension.

"I act the way I do because I refuse to bend to the will of the masses who have already decided, for me, who I am. If they refuse to understand the real me, then perhaps they don't deserve to know."

"That is a very bleak outlook, my dear."

"It is, what it is, Professor. They want to watch me fall. So I give them a show. At least this way, I keep my self-respect."

"And that is to say, of course, that your brother-"

"My brother found his own way to adapt. I do not fault him for that."

Slughorn simply nods because perhaps he understands the perspective she's enlightened him with. Her perspective, the perspective very few take the time to truly understand. He doesn't answer but there is pity in his eyes when he turns away and continues down the stairwell. They reach the bottom, greeted by enchanted lights that glow brightly as they reach the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. She glances up at him once more and she can see he wants to speak so she pauses.

"Maybe there are some who are...unwilling, as you say, to see the real you. _But_ it should be noted, that despite your attempts, some _do_ see that girl. The one who rises above. The one with a future beyond her family name." Her eyes fall at his words.

"Perhaps," is all she can say because she's said enough. She's tired and vulnerable and she should get some sleep before she starts to defy her own reputation.

Her reputation is all she has. She's spent the better part of almost six years creating that image and she isn't about to let a little thing like a compliment make her soft now.

* * *

 **ALBUS**

On Monday their sunny weather is replaced by an overcast haze that hangs in the air and by the afternoon the rain becomes torrential. Despite his usual somber temperament, Albus has little love for such dreariness.

"Concentrate," Thea hisses from their place on the rickety bridge where they are seated. She ignores the fact that they are in the way, several students grumbling in annoyance as they are forced to walk around them but Thea would not be moved.

She's sitting, cross-legged, on the ground and Albus isn't sure why he can't keep his eyes from the bit of skin revealed by her hiked skirt on her upper thigh and he clears his throat, looking away as the blood flushes quickly to his cheeks. He's never been interested in Thea in that way and yet the sight of her skin above her stockings causes him to shift as he sits.

In fact Albus has never been particularly interested in women and their bodies, especially his best friend's.

"I'm trying," he replies, watching as she peeks out at him from under her lashes and he quickly looks down at her palms in her hands, inspecting the lines as carefully as he can manage. "It would be easier to do this in a quiet place. Not outside where the I get wet every time the wind blows the rain sideways."

"You should be able to do this under any number of distractions, Al," she says. "It's been twenty minutes and all you've done is stare into nothing."

They're supposed to be practicing for Divination though he's not sure why either of them signed up for the class to begin with. He managed an Acceptable in Divination last year and somehow, due to her wild imagination and proficiency for bullshit, Thea pulled off an impressive Exceeds Expectations. Neither has much of a knack for Seeing and yet she seems determined to spend their free period practicing the trivial art of palm reading.

He glanced down at her right palm and he lets his thumb trace gently over her head line. Her fingers curl back slightly at his touch, revealing her immaculate black polished nails and she holds back a giggle, biting her lip gently. Ticklish as always. He can't contain a chuckle of his own.

"I think, the short head line here means you're running short on bullshit excuses not to tell me what happened on Friday." He looks up to see her smile fade into a frown and she pulls her hands slowly into her lap.

"Albus," she warns. "Can we drop it? Please?"

"Since when do we hide things from each other."

"Since when do you care about my failed relationships."

"Since you stopped talking about them. Since whatever happened between you and Dom got you so worked up. Worked up enough that an encounter with my stupid brother caused you to break his nose."

"I told you that was an accident," she says, her voice sounding more irritated this time and he gives her a knowing look. "The first time, it was an accident. The second time he had it coming."

"I don't doubt it," he says because he knows his brother and how he gets when he's had a few pints too many. "But it was still unlike you. You can cut James down without lifting a finger. What did he say that got to you?"

Her mouth opens to speak but words don't form as she looks at him, shaking her head.

"He…" she begins, taking a deep breath and she laughs as she sighs. "It wasn't even him! I was already upset and he just made it worse. Pushed me over the edge. Wrong place wrong time sort of thing, you know."

"Thea…"

"Honestly, it's true. Dom and I, we had a row. She said all this….this stuff. This stupid, horrible mind-fuck stuff and then I ran into James. It was all shit luck."

He stares at her, watching because they don't lie to each other, not about important stuff, not ever so he can see that she's telling the truth even if maybe she's downplaying it a bit. Thea likes to make everything important seem secondary, whilst the little things get blown out of proportion. She says it keeps things more interesting that way.

First Friday was definitely downplayed.

"You do realize you lot are in the way, don't you?" a voice says and they both glance up to see Roxy and Bass standing above them. Roxy is smacking her gum, big pink bubbles of sticky sugar, and Bas is toying absently with a muggle lighter, his tattooed thumb clinking open the metal contraption with ease.

"We're studying, Sebastian."

"Studying what exactly?" Roxy asks and Thea raises her hands and wiggles her fingers as she places them back in Albus' open palms, face up.

"Ah," Bas says in amusement. "Palm reading, are we? A bit trivial for N.E.W.T. levels."

"It's a handy tool," Albus says, repeating Thea's words from earlier when he'd said the same thing. He tries not to laugh as he says it. Thea eyes him curiously.

"More of a party trick," Roxy scoffs. "How big is that class anyways. I'm surprised there's even enough of you for them to allow the class to continue this year."

"Maybe," Bas says, smiling. "But some of us actually know what we're doing in there."

He crouches down, placing the lighter in his pocket as he does so and he loosens his crimson and gold tie. He reaches out then, placing his hand face up and glances from Albus to Thea and back.

"What's this? Slytherins scared of a little truth?" Bas asks, taunting them and it's no surprise when Thea's hand shoots forward at the challenge.

Bas takes her small hand in his larger one and her milky flesh contrasts with his. He's concentrating, much more effortlessly than Albus, as he traces his fingers over her delicate lines and it seems as though the rain is no distraction for someone like Bas. His brows furrow slightly as he pauses on the crease that curves near her thumb.

"Very funny," she whispers. "I may not have your inner eye, but I know very well there is nothing you can tell from my palms that would frighten me."

Bas' distant look changes quickly at the sound of her voice and he meets her eyes with a small grin.

"Just says you are soon to expect two dark strangers in need of assistance," he says finally.

"And in need of herb," Roxy adds and Thea pulls her hand from Bas and rubs it absently with her own as she stands.

"Of course. I should have known you two wanted something," Thea says, reaching her arm to help Albus who takes it in his own. "Sorry but as I told you both at the beginning of term, I'm not holding this year. I promised Albus I wouldn't," she says, placing her arm around Albus' waist.

"Rose said you got your dorm ransacked by the prefects. No doubt it turned up clean," Bas says, reaching back into his pocket and Albus can tell he's once again fixated on the lighter despite not removing it.

"Obviously," Thea says, nonchalantly as she grabs her bag from the ground and pulls it over her shoulder.

"You may not be distributing but you and I both know you have a stash somewhere. Care to share how you managed to slip contraband past check in? And keep it hidden from search spells?"

"Why? Having your best friend on the Prefect's Council not enough? I doubt James would order a search of your dorms seeing as it's his room as well. And we both know he has a fine collection of whiskies stored away in his wardrobe. I doubt he'd want that stumbled upon."

"How did you…" Bas starts but Albus throws his hands up.

"Have you both forgotten that I'm standing here?" he says and both Thea and Bas look at him strangely. Only Roxy seems amused by his outburst. Thea simply pats him on the shoulder.

"No of course not, darling. You're not forgotten," says Thea and then places an indiscrete hand over the side of her mouth as she whispers loudly, "Needs constant validation, this one."

"I'm serious," he says. "The less I know about your indiscretions, the better."

"Lighten up, Albus," Roxy says, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "It's all just a bit of fun. You Slytherins do know what fun is, don't you?"

Albus rolls his eyes at his cousin's taunts.

"Do Slytherins know fun, she asks. If only she knew," Thea says and she has that mysterious glimmer in her eyes as she holds Roxy's gaze for one second too long as she turns away. She doesn't bother with goodbyes.

They are out of earshot of the other two when Albus and Thea pull their wands out simultaneously, creating glowing umbrella's to repel the rain, with what continues to be one of Albus' favorite spells. Several first years run by, covering their heads with books and hoods, looking at their charms with envious eyes.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asks, her question buried in a faux innocent high pitch.

"The thing. The thing about the fun. It's like you want them to know."

"Maybe I do want them to know," she says, shrugging. "It's more fun if they know. Gryffindors live to think they're better than us. I just like to remind them, from time to time, that they're most certainly not. As if they know anything _about_ fun."

"Yes but you do that thing, the thing with the eyes and now Roxy is going to tell Rose and Bas will tell James that you did said thing with your eyes and they're going to know you're trying to hide something. If they find out about the party."

"Albus," she says quickly, turning and placing a hand on his cheek. "Where is this coming from? Why are you all of a sudden freaked out about…" she pauses and Albus swallows as her eyes narrow.

She glances up at him, his eyes and how they dance around and she steps closer, placing her face against his jumper and inhales. He shifts slightly at her closeness. Her head jerks up quickly, her eyes wide and she gasps.

"Albus Severus Potter!" she whispers, hurriedly. "Are you high?"

"No," he attempts to argue but she's shaking her head.

"Merlin's Beard you are! You smoked something from the stash."

"I thought it would help me concentrate. You know how I get during Trelawny's lectures," he says, admitting his transgression and her expression flashes several times between concern, amusement, and disappointment.

"First, I can't believe you smoked without me. That is just...it's unfair and selfish. And second, you need to ask before you just reach in and smoke something in there. If you were having trouble concentrating, I would have mixed something else for you, made you a nice tea."

She knows he doesn't prefer smoking like she does. He doesn't mind the high, in fact he is pretty sure it helps him relax better in social situations. But he doesn't have much tolerance for smoke. That's why she's disappointed and now the high is making him anxious.

"What did I smoke?"

"I don't know, what did it look like?"

"Like herb, like...like bloody spliff. What the hell do you think it looked like?"

"Shhh, keep your voice down," she says, her finger over his lips. She sighs. Looking at him and shaking her head in disbelief. "Come on, I'll fix this."

She grabs hold of his hand and pulls him behind her as she starts off at a quick pace back towards the castle. They both manage to stay dry as they cross the courtyard and make their way into the corridors. She doesn't let go of his hand as they push through crowds of first years just now getting out of class and Albus feels his heart race as McGonagall steps out of the doorway as well but she doesn't seem to notice them and walks in the opposite direction.

They weave through corridor after corridor before they reach the main staircases and he realizes she's taking them down to the dungeons. At first, he assumes they must be going to the dorms but she swings a right after the first two flights of stairs and as they near the potions classroom he starts dragging his feet.

"Are you insane!? You're taking me to Slughorn?" he asks, and despite her vigorous pace she trips at his abrupt stop and he catches her, squeezing her hand, to keep her from falling.

"Would you keep your voice down," she hisses. "Honestly, how daft do you think I am?"

"Then why are we near the potions lab."

"It's study period," she reminds him, tugging his arm but he stands steadfast as he contemplates her words. "There will be no one in there," she says this time and he still seems confused. "I can't counteract the herb without some of the potions in the classroom. Unless you'd prefer to wait another hour or two until it wears off?"

"You're just going to walk in there and start using potions, unsupervised?" he asks and his heart is racing again and he's silently wondering why anyone would want to feel this way and for what reason she made this particular blend.

"Slughorn lets me practice during study period all the time."

"Since when? And since when do you have study period without me?"

"Thursdays," she reminds him, pulling at his arm again and this time he moves. "When you are out at Care of Magical Creatures, I sit in the lab and work on potions. Slughorn checks in periodically but only to peek his head in to ask how things are going. Now come on, we have only thirty minutes before we have to be upstairs in Muggle Studies."

It doesn't completely put him at ease but he trusts her despite the increase in paranoia currently surging through his veins. But as they turn into the classroom, it's Thea who stops short this time, noticing two figures working together over a boiling cauldron with concentrated furrows in their brows.

They both look up when Albus feels a small squeal of something crawl up his throat. Thea shoots him a glare.

"Thea?" Scorpius asks, looking up at her, not pausing from his stirring of the steaming concoction. At the sound of her name, James too looks up and casts them both curious glances. "What are you two doing here?"

"It's a free period, Scorpius. I have every right to advance my studies as you do," she says easily and Albus envies her ability to lie under pressure. To everyone but him, he realizes.

"And Albus is keen on an extra lesson as well?" James asks, slicing something on the cutting board and he hisses as he catches the edge of his thumb.

"Concentrate on your own potion, Potter. Albus was asking to review a few quick steps in a draught from last week's lecture and I told him I'd show him a few tricks." Again, it's too easy. James sucks at the cut on his finger but his suspicion is gone. Scorpius seems indifferent to their presence altogether as he focuses back towards his calculated stirring. "And no, Potter, I won't teach you any of my tricks no matter how much you beg."

"I wasn't…" James starts to stay but doesn't finish, realizing he's risen to Thea's bait.

Thea points to a stool on the opposite end of the classroom and urges Albus to sit with a hard gaze. "Stay put," she whispers over her shoulder as she walks towards the storeroom and Albus tries desperately not to make a sound as he waits.

His eyes are transfixed on figures he can make out in the curves and knots of the wooden table and it seems like hours before Thea returns with a cauldron full of several items and she immediately flicks her wand towards the heat and places the heavy bowl of metal over it.

"Light yellow or brown?" she whispers and he jerks his head up at the question.

"What?" he asks and his voice is loud enough that he gains a brief glance from his brother and Scorpius.

"Merlin, Albus. You are impossible. The color, of the herb?" she whispers. "What color was it? Light yellow or brown?"

"Uh," he's racking his brain but he doesn't really remember anything except pulling a finely wrapped joint of something or other from her stash. It was a small stash, three or four joints of herbs Thea had experimented with growing in Majorca. None of which were technically contraband at Hogwarts, she reminded him. Yet. "I remember it tasted like flowers."

She doesn't spend much time in thought as realization appears over her features and there seems to be a slight relief as well as she slides several ingredients off to the side. His stomach nearly turns at the bottle of toads eyes and he's glad to see that whatever she's making won't include those.

"You smoked something mild," she says under her breath, grabbing the knife and scraping it over her sharpening stone in four swift swipes. "It doesn't help you focus but instead allows you to enter a...uh...meditative state," she says but Albus suspects it's not entirely the case. "I experimented with the herb a few times and it had positive effects, but only on women. With men on the other hand," she says shrugging.

"This?" Albus mirrors her shrug. "What does _this_ mean?" he asks, shrugging again and James sets down his own knife with enough force that they all look up at his obvious annoyance.

"Yes, Potter? Something to say?" Thea asks, not looking up from where she's cutting an odd shaped fruit that Albus can't recall the name of but it releases an unpleasant smell.

"What's going on over there?" James asks. "What are you two whispering about?"

"If we wanted you to know, we wouldn't be whispering," Albus says and he only realizes that he's said it out loud when Thea snickers blissfully from his side and James gives him a look of disbelief at Albus' increased sarcasm.

"I know you're desperate and all, Jamie, but I already told you, I'm not sharing," Thea adds in, unable to pass up the opportunity.

"Theodora," Scorpius warns because she's said that name again and James has that look as if he is going to do something he's going to regret.

Meanwhile Thea flashes her brother an innocent smile.

"Well?" she says. "If he would keep his nose in his own corner of the classroom I wouldn't have to speak up."

"Let's just get this done, James. We have one more step and it will be complete. Don't get distracted."

"I'm not distracted," James mutters, trailing off so that neither Albus or Thea could hear the rest of what he had to say under his breath and Thea scrapes in a handful of green leaves that smell like Rhodiola. The unpleasant fruit smell is suddenly less overwhelming.

"Now pay attention to what I'm doing here, Albus," she instructs and for a second he forgets it's all for show as he attempts to watch her stirring motion and she uses her wand to lower the heat, but his mind drifts once again over to his brother.

He wants to say something and he starts to open his mouth to speak but Thea covers it with one hand as the other stirs and she eyes him, eyes wide, and she shakes her head in protest.

"See how it bubbles down when I add the Boom Berry, and the scent becomes more tolerable?" she's purposefully speaking loudly enough that both Scorpius and James glance up for just a moment as her voice carries.

Despite his haze, Albus is fairly certain she hasn't used any Boom Berry because, as he recalls, this isn't a Wiggenweld Potion despite the fact that he feels as though he needs to be awoken from whatever haze is hanging over him.

"Mhm," he agrees, trying not to laugh as he does both at the obvious lie and Thea's scolding expression.

It's another ten minutes before the potion is ready and by then James and Scorpius are putting away their supplies in the storeroom when Thea finally has a moment to bottle the green liquid that is very obviously not the potion she has spent the last twenty minutes convincing everyone it is. She hands him the bottle, just as Professor Slughorn peeks his head through the door.

"Ah, Theodora! Albus. Glad to see two of my best students logging in some practice hours," he says joyfully and Thea elbows him gently.

"Yes, professor, just cleaning up here. Albus was just taking some of these vials back to the storeroom, weren't you Albus? Especially that one there," she says, pointing to the one in his hand and he nods, gathering up as many items he can carry in the caddy and walking at a medium pace towards the closet on the other side of the classroom.

He hears Thea discussing the techniques she is teaching him regarding extraction of Boom Berry and the properties for creating the proper antidote for Draught of the Living Dead, which is what Wiggenweld Potion is commonly known for. It's not a cure-all and it certainly doesn't work in every instance but it has been known to wake a sleeping princess a time or two.

He downs the liquid as soon as he is alone and he hisses, forgetting to cool it before drinking it, but endures the heat as he passes down his tongue. He ignores the taste of licorice that makes him cringe.

"You're acting weird," he hears as he enters the store room and he nearly drops the vial in his right hand as he spins around to see his brother standing by the door, his wand directing the now-clean cauldron back up on one of the higher shelves. "Weirder than usual."

"Am I?" It sounds dumb even as he says it but he tries to add a nonchalant shrug modeled after one of Thea's to balance it out but it is obvious it just adds to how awkward he already feels.

"Are you sick or something? You look sweaty."

"I think it's just warm in here. Warm in there, I mean. Standing so close to the fire. Thea says it makes the potion brew with more accuracy. The heat."

James contemplates this for several moments.

"No it's something else. I don't know what it is. You just seem...not yourself."

"Just trying to get the hang of this potion. That's all," Albus replies and he's surprised at how easy the lie sounds as it passes his lips and his heartbeat seems less intense against his chest. His eyes feel less prone to wander as he speaks and they are soon joined by Scorpius who levitates several vials to various corners and drawers of the room with ease.

James, distracted by the minor interruption as well as the sudden arrival of Thea who is clammering into the room with her eyes on him anxiously, seems content with his answer. Either that or content to let it go as he washes his hands under the sink in the corner.

"Well Al," she says with a grin. "How do you feel? About the lesson. Do you think you have the hang of it?"

He winks.

"Yes," he answers. "I feel much better."

"Good."

"Yes, good," Scorpius says boredly, not looking up from where he's filing one of his books. "You don't want to spend the rest of Muggle Studies high on Thea's homemade aphrodisiac."

He's not sure if it's him or Thea who speaks next because the sound is smothered by James dropping something made out of glass.

"You gave my brother what?"

Professor Slughorn peeks his head in just as Thea's face flushes red, a bright grin on his face.

"Everything alright in here?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for checking back in with my newest chapter! I hope you it was to your liking. I definitely finished this way too late so I apologize for any typos. I just wanted to get this up for you guys because it's been insanely busy for me this week. If you have a quick minute to review, please let me know your thoughts. I've had some great and helpful feedback already that I greatly appreciate.** ** _Dul'mephistos_** **I posted a long and hopefully clarifying post on my tumblr page (cassandraxstartust-dot-tumblr-com) that clarified who everyone was. I apologize for all the confusion with my new characters. I hope it helps. Thanks everyone! -Cass  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for all the reads and clicks and saves and follows and all that jazz. You're all fantastic and I adore you. -Cass**

 **x**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Five:

 _That Time in Muggle Studies When My Professor Ruined Everything_

* * *

 **ROSE**

She enjoys Muggle Studies despite the fact that she has yet to discover anything about the curriculum that she doesn't already know. Her mother, being raised by muggles, likes to find a balance between the muggle and wizarding worlds in raising her children. Rose and her brother, Hugo, know more about the muggle world than even their father.

But he does try his best, which seems to please their mother well enough.

"I just don't understand the purpose of this assignment, Professor," says Theodora. Rose rolls her eyes as it's the fifth time she's interrupted Professor Thomas since the beginning of class.

Rose finds it irritating that the girl never raises her hand but for some reason, Professor Thomas finds it amusing and indulges her. Albus, too, is unable to hide his pleasure for Thea's absurd questions as he sits next to his friend, arms crossed and holding back a smile. It is supposed to be a N.E.W.T. level course, not a Q and A session for Thea Malfoy, and so Rose can't help the way she scowls every time the girl opens her mouth.

"Theodora, if you'd let me finish…" Professor Thomas begins and Thea leans back in her seat motioning for him to continue. "We spend a great deal of time discussing technology and customs of the muggle world. But this assignment is straight from a real muggle curriculum. It will allow you to reflect on the familial relationships of your classmates, as well as experience lifestyles unlike your own. This exposure is important to your growth as young-adults."

"But the Headmaster approved this?" Theodora says, interrupting again and Rose can feel her fingers tightening around her quill. "I only ask because I think it's fair to say that we've all heard the stories about the so-called 'muggle marriage experiment' you designed several years ago and, if I recall, at least three students ended up pregnant."

"Well…you see..."

"I mean, I'm not even sure how that's possible since contraception spells are a fourth-year concept."

There are several snickers around the room because while she can be intolerable during lecture, she does have a point. Five years prior, during her cousin Victoire's final year at Hogwarts, Professor Thomas had instituted a marriage trial for all N.E.W.T. students. It was supposed to outline the struggles and advantages of domestic partnership but it caused quite a scandal when several of the couples took the experiment a little too seriously.

"The Headmaster and I have discussed that extensively and while mistakes were obviously made, things worked out ok in the end. This experiment will, no doubt, prove much more conducive to the curriculum."

Rose raises her hand, glancing at Thea to hopefully send a hint. Thea only raises an eyebrow.

"Rose?"

"Yes, Professor. I was hoping for clarification on the timeline and what exactly would be expected of us during the process."

"The timeline is completely up to you. You will need to complete your observations with an essay, four feet should do the trick, by the end of the year."

There are several groans throughout the classroom and Rose barely has a time to process before Thea interjects, again.

"Four feet?" she balks. "I can hardly write four feet of parchment about myself let alone someone I know nothing about."

"Do you even have four feet worth of personality to write about, Malfoy? I'm pretty sure everyone in this room could write everything there is to know about you and your….family….in, what? About three inches?"

Everyone turns to the back of the room where the comment comes from and while Rose expects a comment like that from James or Davy, she's surprised it has come from Val. If it had been James, or Davy, or even Bas there would have been waves of laughter and Thea would have had a quick reply that would likely to have lead to someone, if not both parties, ending up in detention.

Rose can't help but glance back at Scorpius who is sitting directly behind her but his eyes don't meet hers. His eyes are locked with his sister's, both holding the other's gaze for a long moment before Scorpius glances down at the quill he now fiddles with in his hand.

The classroom is silent and eyes inch carefully up towards the professor who stares back at his daughter in disbelief.

"Valerie," he says and his voice is heavy with disappointment. "I'd like you to stay after class."

"She's spent the entire hour interrupting you and I have to stay after class."

"I haven't spent the entire hour throwing insults," Thea replies and Rose can see Albus place his hand over her wrist in warning. She calms slightly at his touch and her shoulders fold back into their usual poised position. She turns her head but her grumbles are loud enough for them all to hear. "I usually reserve that honor for Potter during Potions."

This time there is laughter and James rolls his eyes from the back of the classroom as he lifts his hand to respond in the form of a certain hand gesture that causes Rose to sigh and Thea to wink.

"Alright, enough now, the lot of you. Valerie, you'll stay after class. Thea, keep the snark to a minimum so I can finish this lecture and pass you off to Professor Longbottom." The class settles and Valerie looks put out as she glares from the back of the room. "I have already taken the liberty of sending home notes to your families. All have agreed to participate in the project. I have carefully assigned you with another student from your year and no, before you ask Theodora, there will be no trading."

There are whispers as Professor Thomas raises is wand, summoning several pieces of parchment that are swiftly distributed through the aisles and onto the desks directly in front of the person they belong to. Rose glances down at her piece of parchment with a frown and then glances over to the corresponding student who wears a matching look of exasperation.

"You can't be serious?" Thea mutters from across the aisle and she is not the only one to groan upon the realization of her partner.

Most matches, in fact, elicit protests of disbelief of being paired with someone outside their circle of friends. Albus doesn't seem to mind with whoever he's been paired with but that's likely because there is no one he dislikes enough to evoke anything but mild indifference.

"Alright, you have your assignment and your pairs. Remember, your only requirement is to spend time with your partners and their family. The more time, the more family, the more you'll have to write for your end of year papers. I look forward to your observations. Class dismissed."

Rose gathers her books quickly as she doesn't want to be late to the greenhouse for Herbology. Several of her books fit neatly into her bag which she slings over her shoulder. Her ink and quill find a place snug near the top as not to spill. She's only holding her Herbology book as she starts towards the exit and is caught off guard when she finds Scorpius walking step in step with her.

"Oh," she says and wants to hit herself for the redundancy in their encounters as she says the first word that comes to mind. He smiles though and she isn't sure if she's grateful or put out that now has no idea how to proceed.

"So?" he asks, clearing his throat. "Who did you end up with then?"

She fiddles with the edge of her textbook as they walk and forgets to stop to glance back at Bas as they leave the classroom as she usually does.

"Your sister, I'm afraid," she says and then cringes. "I mean, that is to say…" He holds up a hand to interrupt her.

"No I get it," he says, laughing. "I apologize for your luck."

"She just...isn't the type of person I normally get on with, is all."

"I don't envy you," he says, glancing down at her and she starts to realize he is taller than she remembers. "I only have a handful of classes with her this year and you've had classes with her since first year. You can't imagine how frustrating it is every time she inter…"

"Interrupts! Yes!" Rose finishes with a laugh. "Professor Thomas could stand for a little structure now and then. At least to keep the lecture going. Every time she interrupts we end up on a fifteen minute tangent."

"I know. Now imagine what she's like at home. The summers are nonstop questions about everything. I rarely get a moment's peace."

Rose smiles because she can imagine. Hugo is very much the same in that aspect and as a growing young woman, she wishes he would mind his own business and give her privacy every once and awhile.

"So, I guess this project means I'll need to spend some more time with her," she says, her fingers fanning gently through the edges of the pages on her book as they walk through the corridors.

"And me," he says and she glances up at him again and his face changes, his pale cheeks flushing red and he begins to backtrack. Rose finds it unusually endearing. "That is to say, I mean because I'm her brother and, you know, the assignment is about family and all. Of course we already see each other around, it's not like I meant you have to spend more time with me because that would be...weird. Anyways, sorry. I should go."

"Aren't you going to Herbology as well?" she asks, trying to hide her smile.

"Right. Yes. I just need to find Sedgewick. I told him I'd meet him before class."

"Ok," she says and she glances back at him for what seems like a moment too long before he clears his throat.

"I'll, uh...see you in class."

"Yeah," she says, waving her fingers. "See you in class."

She doesn't mean to watch him walk away even though for ten extra steps they are walking in the same direction until he peels off into the corridor leading towards the Ravenclaw common room. She doesn't even realize she's staring until she feels someone's arm link with her own and she turns to smile, thinking she's found Roxy but she is greeted by Thea.

"Oh," she says.

"You say that a lot don't you?" Thea says and Rose feels the blood rush to her cheeks. "My brother is a bit strange. Doesn't really do the, 'talking to girls' thing very well."

"He was fine, we were just discussing the project."

Thea groans.

"That might be worse than him trying to flirt, then," she ponders briefly and Rose waits for the point. "So, anyways, we're partners. Weird right?"

"I'll say."

"Right well, the thing is, I don't really do the private life kind of thing, you know? I don't have slumber parties, I don't have big lavish family dinners to invite you to." Rose's eyebrow rises in confusion. "So, how about you and I come to an agreement. Half of your family already goes to school with us, I'll do a little bit on each of them and call it a day. Meanwhile, you, you can write whatever the hell you want about me and I'll endorse it. That way, neither of us has to waste our time trying to pretend we want to spend time with one another or our families. What do you say?"

For a moment Rose can feel the temptation. Already Thea's closeness, their arms linked together, it all feels like too much. She doesn't dislike Thea but she certainly doesn't wish to spend more time with the girl than she's forced to. And yet, she feels that part of her, the piece of integrity that defines Rose Weasley, tugging from that place in the back of her mind.

"I don't think that's what the assignment is all about," she replies and Thea's faux sugary smile starts to fade.

"Oh Rosie."

"Rose is fine," she corrects and Thea waves it off.

"Rosie, you and I could not be more different," Thea says and Rose can't entirely disagree. "Also, let's be honest, can you imagine what your parents would say if you invited me over for tea? Or even worse, if I had you over. I'm fairly certain your dad would not allow you to step foot in a Malfoy home."

She sees her point.

"I need to think about it," she says and she can already feel the guilt welling up inside of her as she does. Thea looks pleased with herself and smiles mischievously.

"That's all I ask," she says.

Thea doesn't unlink their arms until they reach the greenhouses. Everyone gives them a strange look as they make their way through the door.

Rose can't help but blush.

* * *

 **JAMES**

He's late for detention and he knows he's going to hear about it from McGonagall later but he isn't exactly in a hurry to do lines for Professor Binns.

He's rounding the corner when he hears them arguing, the two Malfoys. He pauses short, staying unseen because the last thing he wants before detention is a run in with Thea. Scorpius stands over his sister, both of their expressions are stern and James thinks for the first time he can actually see the resemblance between them.

"I won't do it," she's whispering, her voice hurried and he can see the way she strains her neck to look up at him, her arm crossed over her chest.

James finds this slightly amusing knowing this is the exact expression she uses on him when they stand this close, when she has to crane her neck to look him in the eye and it infuriates her.

"Stop being unreasonable," her brother says. "It's one night and it's the perfect opportunity for us both to complete the assignment."

"It's out of the question," says Thea, her lips are in a hard line as she shakes her head and her black shoes tap impatiently on the stones beneath her feet. "I have worked too hard to plan the fundraiser…"

"Father's fundraiser," Scorpius says, and she glares at him.

"You know very well that I was asked to help plan the gala and I will not be humiliated by you inviting that...that tosser James Potter."

James furrows his brow because he hasn't just stumbled upon a sibling quarrel as he originally thought. Something about Thea's frustrated tone has been caused by James indirect involvement. This pleases him even more.

"Oh come off it," says Scorpius, his usual cool demeanor interrupted by his annoyance with his sister. "You'd barely see him. All you have to do is invite Rose, I'll invite James, they'll come over a few hours early for afternoon tea, talk to Father and then stay for the gala. They'd get everything they'd need for the assignment."

"They'd be in our home, Scorpius. Why doesn't that bother you?"

James sees the way Thea shifts uncomfortably. Scorpius' stance is unmoving.

"You have to grow up eventually," Scorpius says, his voice lowered as he steps in towards her. James is straining to hear. "You can't put on this act forever."

There is a challenge in his voice and James is familiar with the expression that rolls across Thea's features now. Her expression is no longer sour and her eyes burn with provocation.

"Watch me," she says, her tone dark as she spins on her heel and into the classroom where James was meant to be fifteen minutes ago.

Scorpius stands there for only a moment looking defeated. James is sure he's never seen the elder Malfoy sibling with an expression so lacking in confidence. The conversation, whatever turn it had taken, is a point of contention between the two and James curses himself for wondering why.

He waits until Scorpius turns to leave and a moment longer even after he disappears before he starts towards the classroom. When he arrives Thea's fiery expression is already replaced with one of boredom and James curiously wonders which one is the act. She doesn't glance up at him as he sets his bag down, two benches to her left.

There are six other students in detention. Half of them look like first years and by their anxious expressions he infers it's their first time in detention. The other three are fifth year Slytherins who he recognizes from earlier in the courtyard. Weasley products are considered contraband on campus and it's no mystery why they've landed themselves in detention after their display of fireworks just before luncheon.

They look decidedly amused with themselves.

"Mr. Potter," the ghost professor says, his voice haggard. "Instructions for lines are on the blackboard. I expect an extra 100 lines for your tardiness. All to be completed by hand before supper."

"Yes, Professor," he says despite the internal tug to argue with the extra lines.

He's already missed Quidditch and he doesn't feel keen on missing supper. As if in agreeance, his stomach growls loudly, enough so that several heads turn. He places his hand over his stomach, summoning the will to ignore the pains and simultaneously Thea's raised eyebrow.

The lines go by quickly and despite his extra lines and the setting sun just outside the classroom window, he is certain he'll be done before supper. His quill is scratching jagged words loudly across the parchment and Thea sighs heavily more than once in response to the sound.

He's finishing his last line just as Thea stands and she grabs her bag from beneath her desk and slings it over her shoulder. James rushes through the final few words as she walks up to the front and Professor Binns inspects her work. She stands, tapping her shoes on the stone floor in a slow rhythm and inspects the beds of her nails.

James takes his set of lines up to the front as well and places his parchment on the desk. Binns lowers his spectacles and glances up at him.

"Detention is not a race, Mr. Potter," the ghost says and Thea snorts. "Tomorrow I expect better penmanship."

"Yes, Professor."

"But for now, you are both dismissed," says Binns and Thea doesn't wait before spinning on her heel. James abruptly follows though he hears Binns muttering about missing sweet cakes behind him.

His stomach growls loudly again.

His legs are longer, his steps quicker than hers, so it would only take a few strides before he would catch up to her. But they are going to the same place and he doesn't want to end up walking side by side so he slows his steps in order to stay behind her. It's uncomfortable and he can't keep a steady pace as he does so which is what causes her to look over her shoulder at him and glare.

"You sound like you've forgotten how to walk, Potter," she sneers. "One foot in front of the other. Should be fairly simple, even for someone as dimwitted as you."

"Reverting to name calling?" he taunts, adjusting his pacing again but finds himself too quick as he is once again nearly on her heels. "I expect something a bit more refined from someone as snobbish as you."

"Snobbish," she scoffs under her breath and adjusts the strap digging into her shoulder.

James knows he should be quiet, let them finish out the rest of their long walk to the Great Hall in awkward silence but he can't stand being in such close proximity without being a pain in her side. He simply can't allow her to think she is making him uncomfortable. He also refuses to acknowledge deep in the pit of his stomach as his feet stutter again, uncertain of their pace, that perhaps she is.

"I saw you and Scorpius arguing earlier," he says and he doesn't miss the slight catch in her steps. "He almost looked as annoyed with you as the rest of us are."

"I see you not only have trouble walking, but also minding your own business."

"I was trying to get to detention, which you landed me in, and your little argument was blocking my way."

"You landed yourself in detention, Jamie. Don't skew the facts."

His fingers twitch at his side at the nickname and he doesn't attempt to slow his pace anymore as his long stride puts him on her right side. Her eyes glance towards him so briefly that he nearly misses the look of discomfort in her gaze and it doesn't bother to hide his grin. His fingers relax.

"I couldn't help but overhear my name in said argument," he says and her eyes roll back under her lashes.

"Despite your arrogant belief to the contrary, not everything is about you."

"Isn't it?" he asks and she stops so swiftly that it's another two strides before he's able to pull back on his own momentum and swings around to see her standing there, arms crossed over her chest. Her lips are downturned, twisting from her usual victorious smirk into something less than amused.

"What do you want?"

His brow furrows at the question.

"How do you mean?"

"I assume by the overly-enthused look on your face that you heard a bit more than just your name in that conversation, which means you think you have some piece of information to use against me. But as usual, Potter, you are painfully premature."

Though her words are laced in venom there is a slight innuendo rolling of the tip of her tongue because she can't help herself. She never can.

"So the gala Scorpius wants to invite me to…"

"..is not an invitation he has any right to give," says Thea.

James doesn't mean to mirror her stance but he can't help the way his arms rise up, crossing against his chest as he raises his chin. The tables have quickly turned and James can feel the strain as Thea takes the upper hand. Her hips shift and her steps echo through the empty corridor as she takes a few steps forward. His reaction is involuntary, startling himself when he realizes his feet move backwards.

"If he asks you to our home for the gala, you will decline the offer," she says and her feet continue forward, close the gap between them as his body tries to counter each of her two steps with one of his own.

"I don't think I will," he says, his chin still high as she gets closer, hers rising as well.

Then, as he attempts to widen the gap between them, the wall to his back becomes an immovable obstacle that has now left him cornered. He remembers his internal laugh as he saw her straining her neck to look up at Scorpius, recalling how powerful he feels when Thea Malfoy is forced to stand beneath him in the same manner, her sour expression intensified by the discomfort of the position she is forced into.

Now feels very different. Her neck is craned up at him as the gap diminishes and for the first time James feels very much as if he is the one straining to look down at her. This is a very different look that flashes through her eyes, ice-colored orbs that burn through him and as his throat grows dry he forgets how to swallow.

"Forget about the gala," she says to him, her voice low and her eyes narrowed.

"If I didn't know any better, Malfoy, I'd say you sounded scared." It's a last ditch attempt, he knows that as he hears his voice shake every so slightly as her name leaves his lips.

"It's you who should be scared," she whispers.

Scared might not be the appropriate word. He'd never admit to feeling induced into fear by Thea even if that was the emotion rushing through him. But that's not what this is, he realizes upon further evaluation. This is something different entirely. But he can't deny that there is something intimidating about the fire in her eyes and the proximity of her in their current position.

"Forget about the gala, Potter, and...I'll owe you one." The words don't come easily. In fact it is as if she has to rip them from her own lips as they flood into his ears.

Somehow he has the upper hand despite the fact that she has him cornered in an empty corridor. She's giving him power that he's only ever dreamed of and he isn't entirely certain as to why. He can think of a hundred different ways to use this favor she would be gifting him and yet he still feels something deep within him pulling at her hardened gaze directed upwards into his own.

"What am I supposed to say when he asks, then?" James finally finds his voice.

"The truth will work well enough," she says, softening slightly. "You can't stomach the idea of being anywhere near me or my family."

It's not far from the truth. He doesn't like the idea of Scorpius' plan for their little class experiment. He doesn't want to step foot in a Malfoy home, for Rose to be dragged there as well. The Malfoys may be upstanding citizens in the eyes of the ministry but he knows their past with his family.

The flames of the torches lining the hallways alight so suddenly that he flinches at the sound. Her face which was once burning under the shadows of the setting sun is now glowing with the flame of real fire. Her eyes dart up to them, breaking contact with his own.

"Looks like it's time for dinner," she says and her eyes find his once more. James flinches again as he feels her touch, unexpectedly, in the form of her palm against his torso. "Better not be late. I think your stomach as suffered enough," she says, pushing off with the tips of her fingers gently until she is no longer craning her neck upwards.

She's flattening her skirt as she steps away and checks to make sure her tie is settled neatly in the center of her throat before she starts off in the direction of the Great Hall. James waits, not willing to make the same mistake twice as he listens for her steps to disappear around the corner before pushing off from the wall and clearing his throat.

It's not until he's started down the hall, normal strides and long legs, that he sees someone standing in front of him, lazily leaning against the wall with both eyebrows raised and a half smile.

Bas' tattooed fingers play with the edge of his tie as he chews his gum, his grin widening to expose white teeth. His chuckle says he's seen more than James would have prefered. When James doesn't offer up an explanation, Bas points at the spot where Thea Malfoy recently had him pinned against the wall.

"And...what the fuck was that, exactly?" he asks through a fit of chuckles and James waves him off as they fall in step together.

"It was nothing."

"Oh...that was most certainly not nothing."

"It was nothing, honestly."

"James."

"Sebastian."

Bas continues to laugh as they walk and James absently wonders how Thea has managed to elude him at this pace. She is nowhere to be seen as they start down the stairwell and they are quickly accosted by crowds of students on their way to dinner. Even if she was nearby he's certain he wouldn't see her in this crowd and maybe that's for the best.

When the finally do enter the Great Hall, they find two empty seats next to Davy and he's already started into his plate of pasta, spun around his fork as he shovels it into his mouth. His cheeks are stuffed like a chipmunk when he lifts his chin in acknowledgement of their arrival. Despite James' growling stomach he isn't in a hurry to fill his plate as he finds his gaze searching over Davy's shoulder at the table behind him.

He doesn't see her anywhere.

"You'll never guess who I just saw in a very compromising position on the fourth floor," Bas says and Davy's ears perk as he pauses his fork mid-bite and waits.

"Can we, maybe, not do this?" James says, rolling his eyes but Bas just places his hand against James' face, pushing his head to the side playfully.

"Thea with James pushed up against the wall, eyes locked in heated passion…" Bas says in a dramatic whisper.

"There was no passion," James corrects and Davy almost chokes as he starts to laugh.

"She had his hands all over him and our boy here looked in desperate need of a cold shower," Bas adds and the dramatization makes the whole situation seem absurd.

"She was not touching me. Well, she was but just to make a point," he tries to argue and both of his friends stare back at him in amusement as he buries himself deeper in unnecessary excuses. "We were having a row and she was trying to intimidate me."

"Looks like it was working," Bas says, taking a bite of a dinner roll as he awaits James' explanation. "Can't say it surprises me much though. The way you two carry on. I figure it's about time all that tension came to a head."

James ignores Davy as he nearly chokes on his food.

"Ew, no. It was not like that. She caught me off guard. That's all."

"Methinks thou doth protest too much," says Bas.

"I hate you. I hate you both."

The table erupts in laughter.

* * *

 **THEA**

The small ring of black leather chairs in the common room belongs to Albus and Thea between the hours of eight to ten on Friday evenings. There is a couch and two chairs that surround a coffee table that is covered in parchment and books that stack in neat piles.

Albus sits, his Arithmancy book at eye level as Thea sits, sprawled out on the rest of the couch, her head in his lap as she scribbles notes with one hand, and holds her identical book in the other.

"I don't understand," she says, placing the quill between her teeth as she glances up at her notes.

"For the last time...it's the assignment," Albus says, sighing. "Your brother is trying to use the assignment as an excuse to kill two birds with one stone. He invites James to the gala, you invite Rose. He gets to do his part of the assignment and spend time with the girl he's been eyeing for the last year and a half or more," he says without looking up from the page. "Plus, he does get the added bonus of annoying you with James' presence, knowing that it will bother you to see him in your house. I don't know what there is not to understand at this point."

There is silence for many moments, so many in fact that he sighs again as he his forced to tear his eyes from the book and down to where she is looking up at him, her brow furrowed.

"I was talking about this problem from the homework set," she says, pointing to the numbers on the piece of parchment in her lap and forms and 'o' with his mouth as realization pours over him.

From her periphery she can see a student, a first year she recalls, start to sit down in the empty leather chair to their right. Without looking towards them, Thea lets out a stern "No" and the student, who hasn't even had a second to settle into the seat, flinches and scurries away.

Thea's stare speaks volumes.

"I thought you meant the Muggle Studies assignment. It's all you've talked about since Professor Thomas handed out the pairings."

"And I already told you, it's handled," she replied, sitting up and folding her quill in the book as she settles it into her lap.

"Right, but I still don't understand what that means," he says. "You say you have things under control and yet all I heard from that story was that you handed James a win-win. He chooses to go to the gala, he wins. He opts to use your 'one free favor', he also wins. I'm not certain you were thinking clearly when you handed him the power to get the better of you."

"While I and reluctant to admit it, your brother has a fair number of talents thanks to the blessed genetics of your family tree. Creativity, however, is not one of them," she says and she has a point. "Whatever James comes up with will be mildly embarrassing at best."

"While I agree, my brother lacks a certain creative flair, I would advise you not to underestimate his obsessive hatred for you."

"Taking his side?" she asks, scribbling into the margins of her notebook.

"Never."

She rewards him with a wink.

The clock above the ornate stone fireplace erupts in a string of chimes that tells him their time is up. Albus isn't wasting time in closing his textbooks and sliding them neatly back into his bookbag. Thea, meanwhile, meanders at the thought of getting up from her place on the couch and eyes him, her eyelids narrowed when he stands abruptly, causing her to fall slightly backwards into the empty spot his body has left behind.

"You're in a hurry, aren't you?" she says.

"Our homework session isn't the only one I have planned for tonight," he tells her and her brow furrows.

"It's ten o'clock, Albus Severus. Since when do you stay out after hours?"

She's joking when she says it because she knows Albus is a big boy and can fend for himself but when his porcelain pale cheeks flush an ever-so-slight shade of pink her step pauses.

"Perks of being a Prefect," he replies. "After hours projects in the library. Less crowded that way."

"It's a Friday night, Al. I doubt there will be anyone else in the library," she tells him, rolling her eyes.

But he shrugs because maybe that's the way he prefers it and she can't help the small tug inside of her. Curiosity rises but she refuses to be the one to ask and maybe he's counting on that because he turns quickly to leave. She reaches out, unable to stop herself as she grabs hold of his hand and he pauses. She hopes she's concealing whatever it is that's tugging at her when he turns and she pulls him towards her and places her lips to his cheek gently and brushes his hair from his eyes.

"We have Quidditch practice early tomorrow," she reminds him, her voice low. "Don't forget."

He nods and gives her a quick grin as he tosses his bookbag over his shoulder and starts towards the door. She tries not to care when he wipes her lipstick from his cheek.

She thinks about it all the way up to her dorm. He never wipes away her lipstick because he's never cared before. Before now, perhaps, she realizes. He's not hiding anything because technically she could have asked who he was going to study with. He wouldn't have lied. But part of her doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to speculate about Albus and anyone else because it's only ever been Albus and Thea.

She doesn't include Dom because Dom was a summer fling and she refuses to think that it was anything else.

She opens the door to her dorm to find it empty save for Magnus who sits prettily by the window where he bats gently at fish who swim past. They sputter out of view at the sight of his claws and he doesn't look the slightest bit interested that she's walked through the door.

There are several envelopes on her bedside table which means Elara has come and gone with the post and likely will sneak in sometime after hours. She sits on her bed, slipping off her shoes and sliding them under the bedside table as she picks up an envelope with her father's writing on it. She hesitates, glancing down at the neatly written font, her name written out in full.

Theodora, it says, a name reserved for her family and professors. It's always been a mouthful but she doesn't mind it as much as she did when she was a child.

Her father's letters are usually updates followed up with questions about school and quidditch, most often he ends with an inquiry about her brother because she knows Scorpius rarely writes as much as he promises to. When he does write his letters are vague and formal. Her father wants to know if things are ok.

The truth is she doesn't know either.

This letter, however, is short. He's abroad again, somewhere in Karakoram. He hasn't found anything, nothing that he was looking for at least and she can feel the disappointment in his words. She knows better than to be put out at the news, now. She's had hope for so long and she feels it slowly slipping away with each letter like this.

She glances at the vials on her nightstand and sighs as she reaches for the first, a light liquid, shimmering under the flickering light of the candles burning in the lanterns hanging over her head. She stares at it for several moments, dreading the metallic taste. But she knows it's better than the alternative. She's only forgotten her potions once whilst at school.

It's a mistake she doesn't want to repeat.

The second and third liquids both taste like peppermint and she's thankful for it because it prepares her for the last one which is the worst. But she plugs her nose and downs it, cringing at the slimey texture as she forces herself to empty the entire vial. There is one left over but she doesn't take that one unless she has to, unless things get really bad, and so she lets it sit there, the black liquid dark as night.

She has exactly twenty minutes before she'll be under the influence of some of the more potent potions and she would rather not fall asleep on the floor so she makes quick work of getting ready for bed. Her quidditch robes are neatly arranged on a hanger on the outside of her wardrobe, ready for her early practice in the morning. Magus has finally resigned his battle with the fish outside the window and he saunters over to the bed and starts kneaded the blanket just over her stomach.

Thea remembers very little after she flicks her wand towards the lanterns and the light dims slowly until it leaves the room covered in darkness. Only the sounds of Magnus' purs are there, lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

Or so she hopes.

x


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I just want to say a brief "wow" and "thank you!" to Bluemnms for all of the incredible and helpful feedback on the previous chapters, it was truly inspiring and I could not stop grinning. Big shout out to Army-X-7, , and baely for all the wonderful comments as well. You all really pushed me to finish this chapter so I dedicate this one to you. I hope you enjoy. Thank you again. -Cass**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Six:

 _What Happens in Majorca….Well, You Know_

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

McGonagall's office is the perfect temperature, as usual and he's grateful as his damp robes hang carefully hung next to the fire. Outside, a storm rages and if he hadn't been running behind schedule he would have dried them himself before rushing up to her office. But he refuses to be tardy, even if McGonagall herself is.

He sits by the fire, rolling his sleeves with slight impatience as he sits straight up in his seat. He doesn't look at the clock though he knows very well he's been waiting for precisely eleven minutes and he starts to wonder if he misread his schedule. The thought is fleeting, however, because Scorpius never misreads his schedule.

His thoughts are confirmed when McGonagall herself comes bustling in, removing her hat and gloves as she hangs them on the same coat rack and then she crosses the room. She takes the seat across from his by the fire and smiles as she adjusts the spectacles on her nose. Scorpius has never noticed how tired she looked until now though he would never insult her by saying it outloud.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting Mr. Malfoy," she says, crossing her legs, one over the other. Her wrinkled fingers absently toy with the aged velvet on the armrest. "Your sister insisted on having tea in the greenhouses for our meeting. It is a bit of a walk from here."

"I apologize for her…" he begins but she holds up her hand with a sly grin.

"No need," she says. "I find that Theodora is much more open when I compromise with her on our meeting locations."

Scorpius can only nod. He knows that, compared to himself, his sister's patience level is severely lacking. The headmaster's office is large but busy. The walls are crowded with paintings and trinkets, historical artifacts and framed documents. Thea needs open spaces, which is why she spends so little of her free time confined in the dungeons here at Hogwarts. At home she rarely spends more than an hour at a time in one room. He's not sure if it's her boredom or anxiety that is the cause.

"Anyways, let's talk about you, shall we?" she asks. "I won't insult you by asking you how classes are going. I've already heard from the professors that your marks are near perfection, as usual." Scorpius feels a tug at the corner of his lips. "How is the responsibility of Head Boy treating you?"

"Well, professor," he tells her. "I enjoy the involvement with the student body and my peers on the prefect council."

"Any major issues that I should be aware of? I know you meet with the heads of house on these matters but I have to admit I am curious."

"No major issues to date, professor," he says. "Students have been relegated to the usual forms of mischief of course. Curfew violations here and there, and an unauthorized bit of magic in the first year dorms that cause one of the Gryffindors to lose an eyebrow. Nothing concerning since First Friday at start of term"

"Ah yes," she chuckled. "First Friday is indeed a spectacle." She seems to mull over this for a moment before clearing her throat and coming back to task. "Well now that we're well into the term, I expect you'll be thinking more about narrowing down your list of opportunities after the school year has ended. Have you chosen an apprenticeship, yet?"

He glances down at his hands and sighs.

"Not yet," he admits. She doesn't pry and for that he's grateful.

"Well, you certainly have enough time. I've received several letters from the Ministry regarding your applications and any number of them would be thrilled to have you as their apprentice."

Her words are kind but Scorpius isn't as certain as she is. He's seen a few letters himself, urging him to join. But he can't help the sinking feeling that it has nothing to do with his qualifications, and everything to do with his name. It's no secret that Scorpius' demeanor is not quite what people imagine when they hear the name Malfoy.

People may despise the name but they certainly don't despise the Malfoy money.

His father grew up in a different world. Things were different then, times were dark and status said everything about a person and their wealth. The Malfoys have always held a high status with society and their wealth has often been coveted by those who would be willing to bend their morals in order to obtain a piece of it.

Now the name is feared more than anything. He was surprised he received any offers for assistantships at all, let alone eight. His father has spent many years trying to transform the image of the dark connotations with their family name. He wonders if this is him succeeding, or if it's something else entirely.

"Theodora still seems determined to study medical magic. I expect with her continued hard work she should have no trouble finding work in that field."

Scorpius scoffs.

"I think her bedside manner could use some work," he teases and even McGonagall can't contain a chuckle.

"Your father wrote me," she says and he feels himself tense slightly. "He says he hasn't heard from you in a few weeks and is concerned."

"Is he?" he nearly laughs and McGonagall's eyebrow rises into a high arch.

"He is indeed," she nods. "I understand your relationship with your father is none of my business, Mr. Malfoy, but in these meetings are designed so that I am aware of your wellbeing and state of mind. I have never had much cause for concern since your second year here. But I ask that you are honest with me, so neither of us waste each other's time."

He looks at her, his eyes locked with hers. Her spectacles don't hide the age lines that gather around her pale orbs. He knows better than to waste the Headmaster's time. And he knows better to lie. But he doesn't have to lie about his feelings for his father. Those have always been painfully clear to everyone.

"If you must, you can report that I will write to him at week's end to inform him of the results of the Quidditch match and that everything else is uneventful, and that I didn't want to waste his time in writing about it."

She looks reluctant to end the conversation there but once again she only nods and gives him a small smile.

"Very well," she says and motions that Scorpius is free to stand. "Until our next meeting then."

He stands, adjusting his sleeves so that they fall back over his wrists and he grabs his coat, now dry, from it's place by the fire.

"Thank you for your time, Headmaster," he says politely before turning to leave.

Her only response is a smile accompanied by a the smallest of winks. He spends the entirety of his walk back to the dorms trying to figure out what it means.

* * *

 **JAMES**

The weather outside is starting to turn as October creeps along. Summer has come to its end and the chill in the air brings a distinct feeling of fall to Hogwarts.

James fidgets with the ends of his scarf as he sits in the stands, watching as Hufflepuff takes the pitch for practice. Yellow and black robes dominate the sky and James scribbles furiously with his quill into the notebook on his lap as he notices new formations. It's two days before the first match of the season and while most practices are closed, today the pitch is open for spectators and scrimmages.

Slytherin's house team are grounded, brooms stored away in their dorms as they work on speed drills and endurance instead. There is a light drizzle outside, more of a mist really, but it provides enough of a haze that James has to strain to see them on the other side of the pitch.

Footsteps from above turn his attention back to the stands and he sees a flash of auburn hair tied back in a pony tail. She flashes him a large smile as she plops down next to him and he has to stop himself from ruffling her hair.

"Lil," he greets. "I thought you had study period?"

"Ended early," Lily explains. "Bas said you'd be out here. Don't you think you've taken enough notes?" James' quill stalls. "It's not like it's us playing this weekend," she reminds him. "It's good that Slytherin and Hufflepuff play first. We'll be able to get an idea of where they're truly at before we play one of them in the Spring."

"We'll have to beat Ravenclaw first," he says and she snorts.

"Come on, James. We're good. Really good. And no amount of worrying is going to make us any better."

His sister is an optimist, a constant reminder of the glass half full mindset that James has never quite been able to master. He can't help but worry. He wants them to be perfect. He wants them to win. But he doesn't have the patience for faith. He wants to be sure.

"Scorpius is better this year." Thinking of the Ravenclaw seeker who nearly took the House Cup the year prior.

"And Roxy is just as good," Lily says from beside him. "She beat him before."

"In scrimmage."

"It still counts," she tells him and he nods. But it's been a year since that scrimmage and he knows Scorpius isn't one to let that go. James doesn't say that, however, and let's his sister think she's right.

"What's going on with you?" she asks, her eyebrows creased and he glances away from where Dom is swooping down to catch the Quaffle near the outermost ring.

"Nothing," he says, distracted as his eyes dance back to the pitch and Lily replies with a frown as she crosses her arms over her chest. He can't help but think she looks like their mum.

"Are you still upset about this project thing you have to do for Muggle Studies?" she asks and this time his attention isn't divided as he rolls his eyes at her.

"No," says James. "Why would I be upset about that?"

"Because Mum said you were," she says and his casual grin fades until his lips are downturned slightly.

"You talked to Mum?"

"She wrote me and said you were anxious about having Scorpius over to meet Mum and Dad for the project. She said you were trying to get out of it."

"Wouldn't you?" he asks and she shrugs.

"I don't know," she admits. Her eyes travel over to where the Slytherins are now at full sprint as they race across the length of the pitch. Thea smiles as she and Alec compete for the front and she nudges him playfully to try and push him off balance but it fails. "I don't think they're all that bad," she says. "Scorpius is head of my Astronomy study group. He's really nice, even though a little awkward. And Thea…"

James scoffs.

"There is nothing you could say to change my mind about her," he warns her and her smile, in contrast to his own, widens. She stands and steps forward so that she is leaning over the railing as she stares down at where the Slytherins have now collapsed, out of breath.

"She can't be so bad," she says. "Not if Albus is friends with her."

"Albus has always had a harder time making friends, Lil. He latched onto the first person who showed interest."

"That seems a bit harsh."

"Why else?" he questions, standing as well as he leans over and watches Thea as the group rolls over to begin sets of push-ups. The misting rain is picking up slightly and he can see it dripping off of her skin. "She's selfish and childish."

"Mum thinks you like her."

"What?!" he nearly shouts as his head jerks around to see her and Lily laughs. "I do not like her."

"You've made that painfully clear. Almost too often, if you ask me."

"Lily," he warns and she laughs again.

"I'm only teasing. Don't get your wand in a knot," she says, bumping him slightly with her shoulder. "Though, if you wanted to convince Mum, you should probably quit talking about her so much. I know she drives you bonkers, but, I don't know, maybe just lighten up a bit."

"You're telling me to lighten up a bit?" he says, and this time it comes out as a half laugh of his own.

"You're supposed to be the 'fun' one," she reminds him. "Might as well start acting like it again. Or soon, they'll start calling you the 'moody' one."

At the mention of it, James looks to where his brother does his push ups and notices a smile on his face as Thea sits on his back, cross-legged and dramatically pretends to drink tea. Albus collapses, rolling over and he grabs Thea who retaliates with her fingers digging mirthfully into his ribs. Albus lets out a great cry of laughter and James sighs.

"See," Lily says. "She makes him smile."

"Do you think there's something there?" he asks, something he would never ask Albus himself because he knows his brother wouldn't appreciate the breach of privacy. He gets enough shit from the rest of the family so he figures he can give him that much. "People talk."

"Let them," Lily replies. "Whatever is going on between Albus and Thea is none of our business."

"Even if it meant…" he starts and Lily smirks.

"Even if," she replies. James puts his arm around her shoulder.

"Since when did you become the 'wise' one, huh?"

"I think I get it from Mum," she says, wiping the rain from her brow. She pulls away, her smile dropping at the corners and she places a hand across her forehead as she glances up at him to block her eyes from the rain. "This is your last year James. Don't waste it hating Thea Malfoy."

He lets her words sink in as she walks away, the rain increasing, and he can feel himself start to shiver. The Hufflepuffs still practice with vigor and the Slytherins are begging Alec to end practice. Despite his scowl of disapproval, he does.

Water drips down James' nose and lips and finally pulls out his wand and conjures an umbrella just over his hair and he gets a momentary reprieve from the cold raindrops. The Slytherins are clearing the pitch and James attempts to focus once again on the formations of the chasers and the placement of the beaters high above in the screen of rain.

The sky grumbles loudly.

An shimmering umbrella appears at his side and he sees Albus sit down next to him, equally - if not more - soaked than James and he brings a water bottle to his lips as his breath steadies.

"Was that Lily I saw up here earlier?" he asks and James nods. "I figure Mum goaded her into it."

"You figure right," James says without taking his eyes off of Lysander Scamander, Hufflepuff's seeker, who has just dipped low down towards the pitch on his broom as he chases after the elusive snitch.

"She wrote me too," Albus says and James makes a mental note to send his mother a letter detailing his 'fineness' so she will stop pushing his siblings to report back to her. "Don't worry. She's concerned about me as well. She wanted to know if I'd made any new friends."

James and Albus share a chuckle.

"I'd bet the entire family would be curious of the same," he teases and Albus lets out a half smile. He's wringing out the edge of his robes as it fades. "Let them think what they're gonna think, mate," he says, echoing his sister's earlier words. "I may never understand what it is you see in that girl, but if she makes you happy..."

"She does," he says quickly and James turns to look at him. Albus is staring up towards the Hufflepuffs practicing, his eyes following the snitch and the boy in the drenched yellow robes chasing it. "I…" he starts and James waits because this feels like an authentic moment between him and his brother and he doesn't want to ruin it. Albus sighs and his gaze drops to James'. "She's my best mate. I know you two don't get on. But she gets me. And I'm all she has."

James doesn't laugh at this because there is something in Albus' eyes he doesn't quite recognize. He sees pain and worry swarming through his green orbs and James places his hand on his shoulder.

"Then that's all that matters," he says, his voice low and Albus nods, placing his hand over James' for a brief moment before a voice interrupts them.

"Hello Darling," the voice says.

James knows it's Thea before he sees her. She doesn't bother with an umbrella as she stands in the rain, her dark hair clinging to her cheeks. She pushes several wet strands behind her ears and her smile widens when Albus glances back down at her. She laughs as she spins around, her eyes closed and her smile big.

"I heard a rumor that upperclassmen were excused from classes for tomorrow for the big career event," she says when she stops and she wobbles just slightly as she tries to regain her balance. "Care to partake in some procrastination...or better yet, unplanned mischief?"

He's not sure if it's due to Albus' proximity and whatever stray observations are lingering in the air from the previous conversation, but he lets himself look at Thea how Albus might. She's unique, constantly in her own world with no care for anyone else around her and James knows this is how Albus feels as well, though not quite as enthusiastically. Thea usually has a playfulness about her, something he usually perceives as childishness but maybe it's simply indifference to what the world around her thinks.

He realizes there is a long silence because he's been staring at Thea so long that she gives him a strange look and clears her throat.

"Al?" she asks and Albus, too, seems to snap out of some similar haze at his side.

"As...interesting as that sounds, I have study group."

"Shit," she curses. "Which one? Did I forget?"

"No," Albus says quickly. "It's for Care of Magical Creatures. Small group. I promised I'd go."

"Oh," she says, a momentary flash of something disappointed behind her eyes before she recovers with a smile. "Thank Dumbledore I dropped that one this year. I'll meet you for dinner then?"

"Yes. I'll catch up."

She nods, starts to turn but stops herself and glances back up at James and makes a rectangle out of her fingers, framing him and he frowns.

"What are you doing?" he asks, annoyed and she places something imaginary in her robes and grins.

"I just want to remember you like this," she says, innocently.

"Like what?"

"Silent. Not making an arse out of yourself. Rare moment indeed. I can almost see why the girls rave about you, Jamie."

She doesn't give him a chance to counter and Albus snorts from next to him as she walks off, arms outstretched as she takes in the rain.

"You're sure you want to be friends with her?" James asks and he makes sure his tone is playful and Albus' grin almost turns into a real smile.

"You know, she kind of has a point."

"Oh fuck off."

It's the first time in a long time he makes Albus laugh. A real laugh.

He likes the sound of it, he decides.

* * *

 **ROSE**

Theodora Malfoy's dorm is not what Rose expected. In fact, she is ashamed that she expected something quite different. Instead of rich tapestries and extravagant accent pieces, she's surprised when she finds Thea's dorm is quite tidy and simple.

There are no four post beds, no thick velvet curtains draped down around them like in her own dorms in the tower. There are two double-sized beds opposite one another, both with intricate wooden headboards. The wood is weathered like in the Gryffindor dorms but much less and it doesn't rise into a canopy but instead lies flat against the wall with the ornate woodworking arching across it like a halo. Despite the snakes carved into the faint green wood, she can't help but find it beautiful.

In either corner is a small desk next to the armoire. On it is a lantern, a neat stack of clean parchment and a quill. There are exactly twelve books on ancient potions lined up in descending order by size. Rose has never heard of any of them.

"From my gran's library in Norfolk," Thea says as if she's reading her mind and she wonders briefly if Thea has any skills in Legilimency. "My mother's family has this extensive antique library, ancient texts that I've only ever heard rumors about. Before they closed Highwood Manor she let me take whatever I wanted for my collection at home."

Rose nods, pretending to understand what Highwood Manor is and glancing back down at her papers. The books bounce slightly as Thea shifts on the bed and Rose desperately holds onto the ink bottle as it threatens to spill.

From atop the pillows Magnus the cat eyes her, his tale dancing merrily from side to side. He reminds her of her own cat who is probably waiting anxiously for her return.

"He's sweet," Rose says, an attempt at small talk and Thea's eyes don't move from the page.

"He likes you," she says, her voice doesn't waver as she concentrates, her fingers grazing over her handwritten notes in the parchment. Rose tries not to look at them, the neat looped letters in Thea's hand. Writing in books has always pained her heart. "He doesn't like most people."

"He's an arse," Elara mutters adjusting her blouse as she crosses the room.

"I'm fairly certain he feels the same way about you," Thea answers and doesn't see her roommate's hand gesture in response before the door closes, leaving Rose and Thea alone. Thea's fingers pause over one particular paragraph and she taps in with a small grin. "Ah-ha! Here it is."

Rose peers over at the book as Thea scribbles something into her notes.

"The potions properties are limited by weather and time of year. It's why we haven't been able to brew it to the proper qualifications. According to these charts we'd have to wait until December." Rose sighs.

"I wish we would have known that before we'd selected it for our project. We'll be cutting it far too close if we want to present it to Slughorn before exams," Rose says anxiously but Thea doesn't seem quite as concerned.

"Oh Rosie," she says, taking one of her bouncy curls in her fingertips and unravels it slowly, then lets it go so it springs back towards Rose's shoulders. "We'll just recreate the weather conditions. I've almost mastered a spell in charms that should do the trick."

Rose is momentarily taken aback at both Thea's brilliance and her own inability to come up with that solution sooner. She writes "Milton's Method" in her notebook and a reminder to check open lab schedules for next week.

Thea closes her book and swishes her wand absently so that it floats over towards her desk and disappears into the messenger bag slung over the back of her chair. Her notes piled gently on her desk next to an unfinished letter. She does this all with the ease that she might snap her fingers. Rose doesn't bother with the pageantry as she slides her books into her satchel and fumbles slightly with the buckle as she does.

She suspects it's Thea's doing when it flies open and she only smirks when Rose looks up at her.

"So," Thea says, glancing down at her black polished nails. "How's the paper coming along?"

Rose's brow furrows as she answers, "Which one?"

"You know," says Thea. "The one you're writing about my family. Come up with any fascinating anecdotes yet?"

"Oh.." she starts to say but pauses when Thea shoots her a warning look from under her lashes. "I mean...I was going to talk to you about that actually."

"That doesn't sound promising," Thea replies, frowning. "I thought we'd settled this."

"I said I'd think about it."

"And?"

"And, I thought about it."

"Clearly, too much," says Thea, her legs crossed as she leans back into the pillows and toys with Magnus' tale.

"I can't cheat, Thea. I'm sorry, I can't do it. Mum wrote me talking about the project and she said she'd already spoken to your dad and they're expecting us to arrange some sort of visit during the holidays. There is no way I'll be able to get around it." Thea frowns but she doesn't look all that surprised.

"Well," Thea grumbles. "If the Minister for Magic says we must...then I guess we must."

She stands then, walks over to her desk and opens a drawer at the top and pulls out a black matte envelope and walks it back over to Rose, handing it to her with a shrug. There, in exquisite silver calligraphy is her name.

Rose Granger-Weasley.

"What's this?" she asks and Thea sighs impatiently as she motions for her to open it.

She does so, breaking the Malfoy family seale pressed in black wax. As she opens it, the parchment dances in swirls of stars as if she's looking deep into the universe through one of the Astronomy Tower's telescopes.

"What is...Sandwith Hall?" she asks, her eyes traveling over the words.

"It's our home," Thea says boredly, her hands on her hips as she watches Rose's confusion. "I am helping my father organize a fundraiser for advances in magical medicine. There will be a garden social, followed by a silent auction of hundreds of magical artifacts."

"Magical artifacts?" Rose asks.

"Don't worry, Rosie. Nothing dark," she explains. "My father has a very beautiful collection of historical items that he inherited from his maternal side of the family, as well as items my mother's family collected at Highwood Manor. We have no need of any of it at Sandwith, so we thought we could put it towards a good cause." Thea must see the reluctance in her eyes because she lets her impatience falter slightly as she gives Rose an encouraging grin. "Your mother will likely be there. As Minister for Magic we hope to garner her support in a new department designed specifically for research into Magical Medicine."

"What would I have to do?" she asks, her voice stuttering slightly though she is comforted by the thought that her mother might be in attendance. "I am not very good at public speaking if you hadn't noticed." Thea laughs, heartily.

"No no no, nothing like that at all," she assures. "You would come over for afternoon tea and we'll sit in the gardens and talk to my father before the social. The rest of the night you'd just be observing, and enjoying yourself of course. Are you able to enjoy yourself?"

"I do well enough," Rose says, attempting a joke and she is rewarded with another laugh from Thea.

"Good girl," she says.

The clock on the wall dings quietly and she then hears the bell tower toll that the hour is growing close to curfew. Rose stands, placing the invitation into her satchel and nods her thanks.

"I'll think about it," she tells her. "And I'll get back to you about the potions lab schedule."

"You're leaving?" Thea says and Rose is slightly taken aback by the look in her eyes as she does.

"It's nearing curfew. We have that career showcase tomorrow."

"To think, our idea of a quasi-Friday night is studying potions schedules and doing homework," says Thea and Rose does not admit that this is precisely the kind of thing she enjoys.

"Must be catching on," she replies and Thea raises an eyebrow. "On my way here I ran into Albus and Lysander in the library doing precisely the same thing."

The corners of Thea's pink lips fall slightly at the words, but Rose doesn't think much of it as she turns towards the door. She whispers a friendly 'good night' before passing down the steps, getting a few side glances from a group of Slytherin third year girls as she does. She looks like a sore thumb, still in her Gryffindor robes, and they all seem to take notice as they whisper and giggle and Rose does her best to ignore them.

She feels better once she's out in the corridors, more room to breath and no curious stares or whispers. She toys absently with the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she rounds each corner and feels her steps increase as she makes her way through the dungeons. She's just rounding the corner to the main staircases when she bumps into a figure taller than herself and nearly falls over her own feet but he catches her by the arms at the last second.

"Are you alright?" he says, standing her up and she takes a moment to find her balance before she nods. When she meets his eyes, she realizes she is looking up at Scorpius Malfoy.

"Yes," she says instead of 'oh' because somewhere in the back of her head she can hear Thea's reminder. "So sorry," she said. "I was in my own world I think."

"Not at all," he replies, and his smile is so wide she can't help but smile herself, though her glance falls to her shoes. "I was walking so quickly and not even paying attention." She doesn't reply but she does manage to look up from her shoes and can see him shifting just as uncomfortable as she is. She's not at all certain why.

"I was just in the dorms, Thea's that is," she clarifies and he nods. "We were working on the potions project."

"That doesn't really surprise me," he says. "Though, with the two of you as a pair I'm sure I have my work cut out for me to keep up." She can't help but blush as she tries to change the subject.

"Your sister invited me to some gala she's planning at Sandwith Hall," she says and she watches the awkward amusement on his face change to surprise.

"Theodora invited you?" he asks, his brows furrowed slightly. "She invited you to our house?"

"Is Sandwith Hall an actual house?" she asks with a laugh. "Because from the sound of it I was expecting something a little more grandiose."

"Yes, uh...I suppose it is," he agrees, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Rose feels her awkward grin starting to fall.

"I don't have to go," she says. "If it would make you feel uncomfortable."

"No," he says and it's so quick that he pauses for a long moment, pink flushing on his pale cheeks and then clears his throat. "That is to say, I'm sure it would be nice. We don't have many guests. I'm glad she invited you."

"Me too," she answers though she isn't entirely sure why seeing as she hasn't yet made up her mind if she's going.

"Are you going back up to the tower?" he asks and she nods, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and he turns. "Mind if I walk with you?"

"Oh," she says and she feels Thea in her mind, screaming. "Weren't you on your way to the dungeons?" she asks to recover and he slowly shakes his head.

"It wasn't important."

"Ok then," she says and starts slowly off towards the staircases, Scorpius Malfoy at her side.

She feels a childish grin pull at her cheeks and she's in no hurry to be rid of it.

* * *

 **THEA**

She doesn't mean to dream.

In fact, she's fairly certain these damn potions are suppose to suppress the dreams and so she's slightly taken aback by the flash of sunlight through the trees as she walks barefoot down towards the beach.

It's not a dream, she tries to tell herself, it's some sort of memory, but it sounds like a whisper from underwater as she says it and her dream self seems so blissfully unaware. She loves the feeling of hot sand on her feet and she dances carelessly out of the shade of the trees and out into the sunshine.

She pulls down her sunglasses and the shore winds threaten to remove her hat but she holds it steadfast to her head as she bares her teeth at said wind with a wide smile. She loves summer, she thinks. No, scratch that, she loves summers on this island; real, genuine summers that smother her in salt and sweat and she can taste the heat on the tip of her tongue.

There is freedom on this island, a freedom Thea has never truly known in all of her life and she wonders how she can bottle it and keep it for her own. The beach is small and deserted, perfect for this little adventure and and she spins back towards the shade as she pulls her tank top over her head, tossing it aside into the sand.

"Are you coming?" she calls out and from behind one of the trees she sees a blond head of hair peek out.

"I don't know Thea. I'm not sure if I can do this."

"Of course you can," she calls out, crooking her finger. "No one is here. It's just us." There is no response and Thea sighs. "Don't make me drag you out here myself."

There is a reluctant groan and then finally she emerges from behind the tree and she glances around anxiously as she joins Thea out in the sun. She isn't glancing around, instead at Thea who is tugging now at the strings of her bikini top and their eyes meet in a moment of anticipation.

Thea feels nervous for the first time in a long time as she lets the bathing suit fall down into the sand next to the shirt. Dominique lets her eyes take in Thea's body, meticulously memorizing the curve of her breasts and the milky white flesh that accompanies them.

It's a clothes-optional beach and Thea has spent several hours researching this exact spot when Dom said she thought it would be fun to find one to explore. Now that they're here, she can see that maybe Dom isn't as brave and Thea feels as though it's her job to show her that she is.

She steps closer, closing the gap between them and Dom's eyes dart around. Thea's fingertips graze her chin and her searching stops.

"I've never done this before," Dom whispers and Thea can feel her breath on her own lips.

"Been to a topless beach, or kissed a girl?"

"Neither, or rather both," she says and her voice shakes slightly.

"How is it that Dominique Weasley has never kissed a girl?" Thea teases, her words slow and she places her lips gently on Dom's cheek. The blond's eyes flutter shut.

"Since when do you kiss girls?" says Dom and she's trying desperately to keep her cool but she's melting in Thea's hands.

"New for me too, actually," she replies and Dom allows her eyes open just enough that Thea can see their warmth.

She doesn't stop herself then, leaning in and even for her it's torturously slow because it seems to take forever before her lips are on Doms but when they are she feels herself relax into them as if she's the one melting. Dom is only momentarily taken aback but she soon leans into it, her mouth covering Thea's and there is not only curiosity, but want that hangs between them.

Dom's hands no longer hang at her side but they slide over Thea's hips and trace at the bare skin under the hem of her denim shorts. She smiles at the invitation and lets her hands tug at Dom's yellow shirt until their lips are briefly separate by the fabric being pulled between them and over Dom's head.

When their lips reunite, Thea is surprised by the amount of fervor in Dom's kisses but she indulges her, nibbling gently until Dom's lips part and Thea's tongue slips into her mouth. There is a soft sound, so feminine and beautiful that Thea feels her body react similarly as she deepens the kiss.

There is bliss in this moment, in this memory, and the hot sun warms their skin so that when Thea's flesh presses against Dom's she can feel that heat turning into a thin damp layer of sweat as they try and pull each other closer.

She's in a haze when Dom finally pulls away and she wonders briefly if her own lips are as raw as hers. Dom grins mischievously as she too tugs on the strings of her bikini top and lets them fall around her until it joins Thea's on the sandy shore. She grabs Thea's hand, her fingers soft against her own and she pulls her, tugging a now reluctant Thea who has not had quite enough kissing. But she relents, allowing Dom to drag her into the ocean and they both laugh as the cool water hits their skin while they dive under the waves.

It's cold, much colder than she remembers and for a moment Thea feels the breath leave her lungs as she gasps at the chill. When she comes up for air she is shivering and the sky is no longer bright but instead engulfed in a harsh darkness. She searches for Dom, the jovial laughs gone, but finds only icy cold waters and her breath appearing out in front of her.

She can't feel the ground, the water is too deep and Thea struggles to stay above the water as the sea's icy clutches bear down on her and her muscles grow tired of thrashing. There is no air in her lungs as she starts to shout out to Dom and all that comes out is a strange whispering sound. The only warmth comes from her hot tears as they stream down her face and she knows this is no longer a memory, but a dream after all.

A nightmare.

"Thea!" she hears and it's distant as she sinks under the depths but the sound makes her want to fight. "Thea, what the fuck!?" she hears, closer now as something grabs hold of her.

She reaches out to it, fighting her way to the surface and the sound, the very worried sound that drags her upwards and she gasps as she reaches the surfaces, her lungs taking in cold air that burns as it rushing into her lungs. When she opens her eyes she doesn't see Dom's blue eyes. Instead she sees brown, warm like the woolen scarlett fabric currently being shoved over her head and wrapping around her torso where her pajama tank clings to her in the rain.

The warmth is inviting and she lets it lull her eyes shut as arms wrap awkwardly around her and she feels herself fall into them as her legs give out. Rain drips down her face until suddenly it doesn't and soft hands are replaced by calloused ones as they pat gently at her cheeks.

"Thea!" the voice shouts and she tries desperately to open her eyes as she feels her body lift from the ground and press up against someone's hot skin.

Her eyes fight to open and just under her lashes she sees brown eyes again, wild with panic as they glanced down at her and then up and she smiles as she tries to think of something funny to say that will ease the moment. But her mind can't keep up as she dissolves slowly into some sort of unconscious state. She can only muster one word and she decides it will suffice as she sinks into his arms and feels her mind slipping away from her as she speaks.

"Jamie."

x


	7. Chapter 7

**x**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Seven:

 _The Things We Wonder in the Dark_

* * *

 **THEA**

She's not entirely certain how she ends up in the Hospital Wing or where on Earth her pants have gone as she lies under the cotton white sheets of her hospital bed. It creaks as she moves and the noise prompts movement from her left and she squints at the blur.

"Need these?" she hears and she can make out the voice and blond hair of her brother as he places black framed glasses in her hands.

"Can't you just do the spell?" she asks, surprised by the hoarseness in her voice. The frames allow him to come into focus and he shrugs.

"That would spoil all the fun," he says and his voice is dry but she can hear the humor he attempts and she rewards him with a hand gesture that makes Madam Millynn gasp.

"Miss Malfoy!" she says and Thea slides her glasses up the bridge of her nose to hide the rolling of her eyes.

"Are you sure these are mine?" she asks when they slip again. "They're a bit of a strange fit."

"They're mine," he says and it makes sense now as he points his wand at the bridge of her nose and the fit tightens enough that they're still a bother but are no longer slipping off her face. "I wasn't allowed up in your dorms for obvious reasons, but the Headmistress said she'd get your belongings once you'd woken up and we figured out what happened."

"I expect by the state of me that I was sleepwalking," she says boredly and Scorpius' eyebrow rises.

"Did you forget your potions?" he asks her and she scoffs.

"I learnt my lesson the one time," she reminds him. "I think I can manage to swig a few potions before bedtime."

"Well they clearly didn't work," he says and his voice isn't impatient like she expects. "Father had Madame Herwyn come in from London to do an exam. She's in the potions lab as we speak."

"You wrote to him?" she asks, sitting up quickly. Her head spins slightly at the hastened movements.

"Actually it was your Headmistress," a voice says, his pace quick across the stone floor and she sighs.

"Papa, before you say anything…" she starts and is surprised that when he reaches her he engulfs her in a hug. Scorpius' expression mirrors her own as she slowly reaches around his back to reciprocate the embrace.

"It doesn't matter," he says quietly, his palm to her face when he pulls away. "We'll figure it out."

"It's just sleepwalking," she reminds him, her tone firm and he glances to Scorpius. "The real question is what kind of mischief did I get up to whilst wandering the halls of Hogwarts?"

The joke is intended to ease the tension but neither one of them does as little as crack a smile. Scorpius is looking at their father, his eyes narrowed slightly the way that always reminds her that he's a true Ravenclaw. But she doesn't plan on giving him any time to solve whatever puzzle he thinks he's stumbled upon.

"I don't know why she bothered you," she tries to brush off as Madame Herwyn walks through the doors, holding her skirts and she looks at Thea with a brightness in her eyes.

"You're awake," she says and Thea let's her frown deepen.

"Of course I'm awake," she says impatiently, trying to pull back the covers but Scorpius' quick wandwork has the blankets pull back over her, tucking in at the creases around her legs and the mattress. "Madame Herwyn please tell them I am fine."

"I'm afraid, my dear, that I cannot. The potions are," she starts and glances at Scorpius before continuing. "Well it's my professional opinion that they must be growing ineffective. Clearly they aren't potent enough to keep you asleep through the entire night as they are intended."

"I don't understand why a simple bought of Dreamless Sleep potion won't do the trick," Scorpius says, his brow furrowed in thought. "If she's just having nightmares and sleepwalking..."

"It's more than that, Scorpius," her father hisses, much too quickly because Thea can see the sting in her brother's eyes at their father's tone.

"Well then what is it?" Scorpius asks slowly and when neither of the adults in the room can muster an answer she clears her throat.

"It's obvious isn't it?" she says and everyone's eyes drift towards her. She avoids her father's look of defeat. "I messed up my own dosage. It's not the first time, it's happened."

"You just said…" Scorpius starts.

"I was wrong," she interrupts. "I know you think highly of me, brother dear, but I am only human."

"Theodora," her father says but she doesn't look at him.

"I know, Papa, I'll do better. I promise. I was exhausted from Quidditch and working on that Gala. I don't know what happened but I clearly missed a vial."

"If the gala is proving to be too much with your school load…"

"No," she says quickly. "I can do both. Once the match is over this weekend, I'll have more time to focus. I'm fine."

"If you're certain," he says and she allows her eyes to meet his. Neither one pushes because they both know what this means.

"I am."

Her father stands then and lets her hand fall gently back into her lap. She fidgets with the frames around her nose as he straightens his robes and glances over at Scorpius. There aren't words between them, only a glance full of longing and she realizes for the first time how similar they seem. She's always been her father's daughter, but as Scorpius grows there is no doubting that he too is his father's son.

"Good luck tomorrow," he says and despite his tired eyes she sees a real smile tug at his lips. "I'm sure you'll kick Hufflepuff arse."

"You know it," she says with a wink and he chuckles slightly before he turns, reluctantly following Madame Herwyn. "Care to help your favorite daughter with an itty bitty eyesight improvement charm?" she asks, pointing to Scorpius' bulky frames and his head turns over his shoulder as he laughs.

"Where would be the fun in that?" he replies, a wink of his own as he walks through the room and he nearly runs into Albus who is rushing around the corner with a stack of papers under his arm.

"Mr. Malfoy," he greets, nearly out of breath.

"Albus," her father replies, patting him on the back as they cross paths.

"You're awake," her friend says as he spots her and she groans.

"I wasn't dead, for Merlin's sake."

"Well you may have known, but you gave the rest of us a good scare," he replies.

Scorpius rises from his place by her bedside and straightens the creases from his pants as he does. She knows the reunion with their father is putting him a bit on edge though she doesn't mention it when he says he'll check in on her later and starts for the door. Albus waits until they are alone before he speaks, shuffling the papers in his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"Are you really ok?" he asks her and she cocks her head to the side and lets her lips rise in a lazy smile.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Albus Severus," she says and he returns her smile with one of his own.

"Well whatever you did, I wish you would have let me in on it because the assembly was brutal."

She furrows her brow, remembering the career discussions that cancelled classes for sixth and seventh years today. She hates that she missed it, knowing there would have been mediwitches and wizards from St. Mungos there to discuss the career path she's had her eyes on most of her life.

"Don't worry," he says, pulling a few sheets out of his pile in some sort of strange organizational system and places them on her lap. "I knew you'd murder me if I didn't at least bring you something of worth from assembly."

She glances down at them, her eyes hungrily dancing over the words. She's barely through the first paragraph when she notices the large woolen sleeves of deep crimson shrouding her wrists and she lifts her arms, watching the fabric fall back down around her elbows.

"Uh," she manages, glancing around her where the collar slips slightly off her shoulder and she furrows her brow. "What the fuck am I wearing?"

* * *

 **ALBUS**

Although he knows exactly where the oversized jumper has come from, Albus doesn't tell Thea for fear of her reaction and so they walk back to the dorms with the mystery hanging over her head. Halfway there, when she decides she actually likes the damn thing, he decides that telling her it belongs to James is out of the question.

Still, it worries him that she can't remember, and his earlier encounter with Mr. Malfoy doesn't ease his anxiety even slightly.

She's ill, he can feel it, but he doesn't know why she keeps insisting that she's fine. Thea is a better liar than her father, however, because when he too insists that Thea is well and that she is simply still struggling from a bout of sleepwalking, he knows it's more serious. Neither one divulges more information than that as they pretend the conversation never happened. It's more apparent than ever how much like her father Theodora Malfoy actually is.

He doesn't like it, the lies, but he tries to remind himself that he's lying to her as well.

She holds onto his hand as they make their way through the corridors and as usual, several people stare and wonder. Wonder why Thea missed assembly, wondering why she's dressed in pajamas, wondering why the bloody hell Thea and Albus are holding hands if they keep insisting they aren't a couple.

It's none of their business, he reminds himself again, and he's so distracted by the reminder that he doesn't noticed that Thea has stopped and he runs into the figure she's stopped in front of.

"Heads up, little brother," he says with an amused grin as he helps Albus steady himself. "The two of you are in your own world as usual, I see."

"Er, um, sorry," he says, shaking his head and as Thea glances curiously at him, James glances curiously at Thea's attire.

"Skipping assembly to...sleep in, Malfoy?" he asks, and Albus' brow furrows at his brother's attempt at a joke. Both know quite well why she's dressed in his jumper and Hospital Wing issued pajama pants.

"Not all of us need an assembly to figure out what we're going to do with our lives," she says, fixing her glasses absent-mindedly and James smirks despite her sharp slight in his direction. James still doesn't know what he wants to do when he graduates, a slight point of contention in their household. "I hear your uncles are hiring test subjects for their new expansion. Maybe you could use your family influence to enter into a career of folly."

"And perhaps you can go into fashion," says a voice as Valerie Thomas appears at James' side. She glances at Thea's attire and chuckles. "You've got an interesting sense of style."

Thea's answer is a sugary smile accompanied by an exaggerated curtsy.

"I didn't realize you wore glasses, Malfoy," a new voice says and Thea's impatience at this little run in is growing thin. They spin around slowly, noticing Lysander Scamander, several books under his arm, as he glances down at the both of them. Albus feels the sides of his lips tugging upwards. "Oddly enough, they suit you."

"Kind words, Sandy," says Thea and the pet name doesn't seem to bother Lysander who stands amused above her. "I'm afraid they won't stop me from destroying your team at tomorrow's match."

"So you _are_ playing?" James interrupts. Albus sees that his smirk is gone, replaced by something foreign in his brother's brow.

"And why wouldn't I?" she asks as she steps closer and Albus tugs on her arm.

"Alec said you wouldn't," James says simply.

"Well he was mistaken."

Albus sighs at the unnecessary tension between the two of them but wonders curiously why James doesn't seem to have his heart in the argument as usual. Thea's hand tenses in his own and he squeezes back in warning that she's close to losing control. He doesn't notice Lysander's gaze on their interlocked fingers until Thea finally takes a step back.

Albus quickly lets go.

"Come on, James," Val says from his side. "Don't waste your breath. She's clearly mental from the state of her."

James doesn't laugh as Albus expects. In fact, everything about his brother is strange today as he reluctantly starts off towards the Great Hall, leaving the two of them alone with Lysander. Thea's eyes narrow as James passes but neither says a word.

"So, Albus, do you think you'll have time to go over our notes before supper?" he asks and Albus' attention is drawn back to the blond and how his blue eyes focused so intently on his.

"Well," he starts awkwardly. "Thea hasn't been feeling well and I should probably…"

"No, of course. I completely forgot." he says and their usual easiness around each other is challenged by Thea's presence and curious expression.

"Maybe after," Albus offers. "I should have some time then."

"Sure," Lysander replies with a grin, satisfied with the alternative.

"Great," says Albus, his gaze falling to his feet as the heat rises to his cheeks. "I'll, uh, see you then."

"See you then," he mirrors and they part ways and Albus is happy for a moment to catch his breath as he continues towards the staircases, Thea at his side.

They've nearly reached the dungeons when she stops him, a nook near the trophy cases that line the long corridor of House Quidditch trophies and looks up at him, her left brow rising as her eyes search his.

"No more lies, Albus Severus," she says, taking her hand from his and crossing it over her chest. "What is going on with you and Lysander?"

Albus' eyes widen.

"Nothing."

"Albus."

"It's nothing," Albus insists again. "He and I study well together, that's all. You know I need the extra help."

"You wound me with your wretched attempts at lying," she says and he feels his cheeks flush.

He could tell her the same thing, point out that she's been lying about the potions on her bedside table, about why she has nightmares. Sleepwalking is relatively new and it makes him think she is getting worse. But he doesn't say any of that because she taps her toes, clad only in woolen socks, on the stone floor and he knows he is moments from caving.

But before he can speak there is realization in her features as they soften.

"You like him," she says and he looks away. "Merlin's beard, you do. Does he like you back?"

"I don't know," he answers but she continues as if she doesn't hear him.

"Of course he does, what a stupid question. I saw the way he looked at you," she says, more to herself than to him but still he perks at her words. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," he says again and she frowns.

"Some effort would be greatly appreciated," she says. "You like a boy and you didn't tell me."

"I thought we didn't talk about things like this?" he asks and she glances over his face.

"Is it because I didn't tell you about Dom?" she asks and he sighs, more heavily than he intends to. "I mean obviously there is nothing left to talk about, but what happened between Dom and I, that's different. This is…you and Sandy. I guess I should have noticed with all the sneaking around and whatnot. You didn't have to hide it from me, you know. I know I..."

"This may surprise you, but not everything is about you, Thea," he says and it comes out sharply, so much so that it causes her to take a step back.

"I…" she starts and he can't help himself as he speaks again.

"You make everything about you, always," he says and his failed attempt at a whisper causes her to flinch slightly. "I'm sorry," he says. "But for once, can you stop acting like my whole world revolves around you and your choices? For once, can I have my own bloody life?"

He has to walk away because he's taking things further than he's intended to and he can't bear to see the look he's left on her face as he carries on towards the dorms. He only hears her shout out to him once but he doesn't look back as he leaves her there and a feeling rushes through him that he can't define.

He only knows that he's wanted to say those words to her for some time, and yet he feels no relief in saying them. Only guilt.

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

He likes the Astronomy Tower on Friday nights because he can be alone. He has one hour between dinner and reporting for rounds that belongs solely to him. Here he can think. Here he can stop pretending like things are normal.

His father is disappointed in him. He'll never say it because he spent so long living with the disappointment of his own father that he doesn't want Scorpius to feel the same way. And yet today he does. It was there, in his eyes when he came to the hospital wing and saw Theodora lying unconscious.

Scorpius is supposed to look out for her.

He shouldn't blame his father for being concerned. He shouldn't blame either one of them for having a close relationship. And yet, he can't help it. He hates that he's never been able to relate to their father the way his sister does. But things were so different when they were children.

When their mother was alive.

Most days he tries not to think of her. It's been four years and still he feels the pain of her loss as if it were yesterday. But here, for one hour, he allows himself to indulge in memories.

"Oh, hello," a voice stutters from the doorway and he turns to see her standing there, fair skin and ginger hair disheveled and slung over her shoulder. "I didn't know anyone was here."

He clears his throat.

"It's fine," he tells her, letting his fingers brush through his hair and she gives him a small smile as she approaches. "I don't normally see anyone up here after classes."

"I left a book up here earlier," she tells him, walking towards the table where an old, leatherback book sits. "I thought you'd be getting ready for the Prefects Meeting."

He's never late to lead the Prefects Meeting. But with the events of that morning, he knows he hasn't been quite right.

"It's Dominique's turn to lead the meeting," he replies. "I figured I'd give her some space to get all of her notes in order."

It's a lie, but much better than the truth.

"She does like to read things word for word from that little book she carries, doesn't she," Rose says with a grin and Scorpius returns it with one of his own. "I don't think I've ever noticed how peaceful this place is when it's not crowded with students."

"It's a good place to think," he tells her and she stands near the window.

"I could use a good place to think," she says, her voice low as she glances out over the courtyard. "Not many places like this around here."

"Not even the library?" he asks and she snickers.

"You'd think so, and yet somehow it's always overrun with first years who don't understand the meaning of quiet. I can hardly hear myself think."

"Well," he says slowly, looking down at his palms. "You can certainly borrow this space if you'd like. I can attest to its therapeutic properties."

"You must spend a great deal of time up here," she says and his eyebrow rises. "A mind like yours. I just imagine Scorpius Malfoy is always thinking."

This time he chuckles and it's loud enough that it elicits one from her as well.

"So what _do_ you think about up here, anyways?" she asks him and though he still smiles he feels his lips tighten over his teeth as the edges of his mouth fall back into contemplative grin.

"A lot of things, actually," says Scorpius and Rose watches him from her place at the window. She leans against the wall across from him. "School, the future…" he says, pausing as her eyes meeting his and he curses himself for glancing down. "My mum."

She seems as surprised as him at this admission and he wonders if he should change the subject but when he looks up her gaze urges him to continue. If he's being honest with himself, he wants to talk about her to someone. No, he thinks, not someone. Rose.

"I miss her," he says, his voice low. "Quite a lot these days, actually."

"What was she like?" Rose asks and Scorpius sees a flash before his eyes, a woman with dark hair and contagious laughter.

"She was lovely," he says. "She laughed a lot and she loved to read. She was so incredibly smart. I remember when she got ill," he says and pauses as he lets another image fall from his memory. The frail woman he tries to keep from his mind. "...when she got ill, she had me read her to sleep at night."

"What kinds of books?" Rose asks and Scorpius gestures around him.

"Astronomy," he says, grinning. "She loved the stars."

"Sounds like quite the woman," she says, pushing off from the wall and she walks towards him, her hands fiddling behind her back as she attempts to look contemplative.

Scorpius feels his heart lurch as she stops beside him and lowers herself to sit. She doesn't glance up, at first. For that he is grateful. Her auburn hair falls slightly from the untidy braid that was once confining it and several strands fall in her face. He feels his hands twitch, urging him to move them but she quickly pushes them behind her ear and he can see each and every freckle around her nose.

"I saw Theodora on her way to detention a bit ago," she said, her white teeth exposed through her lips. "She was grumbling about needing her sleep for tomorrow's match."

"She's had plenty of sleep, I think," mutters Scorpius and he curses himself internally for showing such displeasure in front of Rose.

"She's alright then? If she's been cleared to play?" she asks and Scorpius can hear the concern in her voice. His brow furrows.

"Seems so," he manages. "You never know with Theodora. She's stubborn. We have a pear orchard on the grounds at Sandwith and she used to spend summers under the trees eating as many pears a she could manage. Mother and Father forbid her from eating them once we found she was allergic and you would have thought it was the end of the world. She ate every pear she could get her hands on halfway through anaphylactic shock."

Rose laughed, loudly this time and it was a decidedly nice sound to his ears.

"That doesn't altogether surprise me," she answers. "I suppose a little Quidditch due to sleep deprivation won't kill her."

"I noticed you weren't on the team this year," Scorpius says, changing the subject because he came up here trying to escape the thoughts of his sister. Rose looks down at her hands as they fidget in her lap. "I was surprised. You're rather good."

"Ringing endorsement," she says with a chuckle and Scorpius feels his face flush before he realizes she is teasing him. "I love the game, I do. I just needed a break this year. N.E.W.T.s are more important than being on the house team, though don't tell my dad that."

"Fair enough," he says. "I don't know what my father and I would talk about anymore if it weren't for Quidditch. Things were so different before. I could tell him anything. Now...now it's like he only sees my sister."

She doesn't say anything for a few moments and the silence is heavy between them. He wonders if talking about his mum and dad was a mistake, as if maybe Rose will see him differently knowing things aren't as easy as perhaps they seem.

"Well, she is quite difficult to ignore," Rose says fondly and he frowns again at her words as he shifts slightly to look at her beneath his furrowed brow. "I've tried and failed quite miserably at the task."

"Do you…" he starts and he can't believe he's about to say the words aloud but he has to know. "Do you care for her? My sister?" he finally asks and her head snaps up quickly in surprise.

"What?" she asks. "You think I...that I like her? Theodora?"

"Well I just…" he stammers. "You seem like…"

He doesn't get to finish his statement because she erupts into a fit of giggles, her face turning pink as she holds her stomach and looks up at him in disbelief. She's trying to speak, waving her hands and shaking her head but she's too consumed in laughter for the words to come out.

"So, I take it I am mistaken?" he asks and she nods, catching her breath as she hands him the book she's been holding onto.

 _An Introduction to Arithmancy: For First Year Students_ sits in his lap and he glances up at her in confusion.

"I have a confession," she whispers, wiping the sides of her eyes and she lets out a breath slowly. "I didn't leave a book up here," admits Rose. "I only grabbed this when I thought I was going to lose my nerve and run back down those steps."

"I don't understand," he asks and perhaps he does but he feels suddenly like an idiot as she smiles.

"I came up here because I knew you'd be here," she says plainly and he feels his heart leap in his chest. "I came up here, Scorpius, because I wanted to talk to you. I like talking to you, oddly enough. I'm not sure why you're so nice to me, but…"

"It's not obvious?" he dares to speak and her eyes meet his for the first time since she started her confession.

"Perhaps as obvious as me having a crush on your sister," she says and his cheeks flush again. "Scorpius, I don't know why you'd be interested in someone like me but I think, unless I am utterly mistaken, that's what this is...right?"

"Yes," he says, perhaps too quickly but he doesn't want to leave her in any suspense. He's nearly breathless as he watches her eyes light up. "Yes, Rose. I like you."

"Well," she says, this time it's her cheeks that flush a pretty shade of pink. "That's a relief. Though why Scorpius Malfoy would like a girl like me I have no earthly…"

Her self-deprecating words are interrupted by Scorpius' lips against hers. Whatever she was about to utter is lost then and he grabs hold of her cheek with his hand, letting his fingers graze her auburn hair as he pulls her lips closer and he is lost in this moment. He thinks perhaps it has all been a dream, a trick his mind has played on him as he sits alone in the darkness, but when he feels her hand slide up his chest and over his shoulder, he's certain it's real.

And for that moment, he forgets everything except her.

* * *

 **JAMES**

By the time James shows up for his last night of detention with Professor Binns, Thea is already there with her arms crossed over her chest as she attempts to scold the ghost of the Bloody Baron. Neither looks particularly willing to cave on whatever argument they've engaged in and for a moment James gets a glimpse of what it must be like to be a bystander to one of James and Thea's throwdowns.

"I _have_ a note."

"You do _not_ have a note."

"I do, it's here and see it says I am not to be put under any strenuous activities until tomorrow."

"Convenient, little Slytherin," says the Baron, scoffing at the piece of paper she held in her hand and her response is to ball up said paper and through it straight through him.

"What's going on?" James asks and both the ghost and Thea look in his direction but neither budges.

"Professor Binns was indisposed and asked that I relay a message to the both of you that your detention is to be carried out in the Dark Forest this night."

"The Dark Forest?" James asks. "What could we possibly have to do out there? At night, no less?"

"Precisely what I asked," Thea hisses and the ghost narrows his dark eyes. "This is preposterous. And who is supposed to supervise us? You can't expect the two of us to survive detention in the Dark Forest alone, can you? We'll rip each other's throats out before the hour's up."

"That'll be where I'll step in," a voice says from behind James and all eyes turn to Professor Longbottom. Thea perks slightly and for the first time, as she straightens her posture, James notices she's still wearing his jumper that hangs over a pair of dark trousers. "I'll admit, I don't find it so much a punishment, but when I asked Professor McGonagall for the extra help she said she had two students in mind."

"So we're to spend detention picking weeds out of a forbidden part of the castle grounds?" James asks, narrowing his eyes and Professor Longbottom laughs.

"James, your lack of interest in herbology is almost as disappointing as your father's. Come along. We don't have all night."

Thea sends one last glare at the Baron before following them out of the classroom and James is the one left silent and she and Professor Longbottom discuss different plants and their properties for one of their upcoming projects in class. He barely listens, too distracted by the knitted sweater that engulfs the girl in front of him and how in Merlin's name he's supposed to ask for it back.

He wonders if she knows it's his. Normally he would believe she doesn't except it's Thea and it's more likely that she wears it to spite him. He shouldn't give it as much thought as he does on their way outside but it's consumed him now and he hates that he lets himself get to this point.

The forest is dark, like it's name, but is brightened slightly by the light of a near full moon. The three carry lanterns, summoned by their professor, along with a basket he is meant to share with Thea. He's heard countless stories from his Uncle Ron about adventures in the forest during his Hogwarts years but for all of James' times here, he's never actually been inside, himself.

"The moon dew should be fairly easy to find beyond the shadows of the larger trees. You'll see the distinct glow the petals put off in the glint of the moonlight. I'll need a fair bit of it for Professor Slughorn's O.W.L. class," Professor Longbottom says and Thea glances around curiously as she nods. James pretends he remembers what a moon dew flower looks like and nods his head as well. "Hospital wing also requested that while we're out here we find some betony to replenish their stores. Keep it as intact as you can manage. It's a bit tricker to find this close to a full moon, but Thea knows it's properties well enough to spot it should you cross it's path."

"Is there a streak of mad dog bites we should worry about, Professor?" she asks and Professor Longbottom laughs.

"Down in Hogsmeade there were a few cases reported by the villagers and they looked to Madame Millynn to help distribute antidotes. But she ran out of betony during the last bought and since we're out here, I thought I'd save her the trip."

Professor Longbottom is married, of course, but James knows there are few who wouldn't go out of their way for Madame Millynn. The young mediwitch had only recently started her stint as head of the Hogwarts hospital wing and she was a sight to behold. Married or not, it was clear why he was eager to help her.

"Shouldn't we split up then?" she asks, glancing at James with narrowed eyes. "I think we'll get the work done quicker if you send Potter out for the moon dew whilst I search for the betony. I bet he couldn't even spell the word."

James, bated by her challenge, is about to start when they are interrupted by their Professor's glare and she mumbles under her breath before snatching the basket from James. He follows her, reluctantly, as Professor Longbottom finds something of interest to occupy him on the low hanging limb of a nearby tree.

They are nearly out of earshot when James decides to speak, unnerved by the silence between them.

"Your mood turned foul rather quickly from the last time I saw you," he says and she answers with a scoff.

"If one were to believe everything you said, I am always in a foul mood. Why should now be any different?" she asks and she doesn't bother to look at him as she searches their surroundings.

"Well you seemed in rather high spirits when I ran into you this afternoon with my brother."

"Well since then, all sorts of things have occupied my temper," she says, her voice muffled as she disappears behind a large tree.

James quickens his pace to keep up, still unsure how someone so small could walk so quickly.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Since when is my mood any concern of yours?" she asks.

"And since when are you unwilling to enter into any sort of verbal conflict with me?" he asks, unable to let it drop and as she peeks out from behind the tree her eyes meet his with a glare.

"Fine," she says, placing the basket on the ground as she walks towards him. She stops close enough that he can see her eyes are still tired though no longer hidden by the oversized frames she was wearing earlier in the day. "We had a deal, you may recall. A favor for a favor? And so imagine my surprise when I receive an updated list of respondents for my father's gala and I see your name on it." James has to fight the grin that threatens to appear. "Care to explain?"

"Well, I did consider it," he says and there is fury alight in her eyes. He's certain if the burgundy sweater was actually her size, he would see her fists balled to match the anger bursting from within her.

"And you decided the opportunity for certain humiliation on my part was not quite tempting enough to dissuade you?" she asks him and he can no longer hide the smirk as his lips rise at the corners. "Oh you are impossible, James Potter," she hisses, turning away from him and he can't stop his hand from reaching out as it gently grabs hold of her wrist.

"If it makes you feel better…"

"There again, with your unwarranted concern over my mood. Really Jamie, it is rather disturbing how obsessed you are with me..."

"As I was saying…" he says and this time she doesn't interrupt, only glares up at him, her eyes burning hazel in the light of the lantern. "My parents said I didn't have a choice. As enticing as the thought of certain humiliation was."

"I really don't understand your family," she says. "The Potters, and Granger-Weasleys, no friends of the Malfoys over the years mind you, sending their children for a night of high-class frivolity at Sandwith Hall? It's all quite curious."

"Maybe growing up means it's time to forget about such things."

"Such things?"

"Rivalries and unnecessary animosity."

She frowns.

"You're not growing soft on me, are you? I'd hate to have to find someone else to take your place. We've been at this game for so long, I don't know of anyone that could do it better." she says, followed by a silence that James isn't sure how to fill.

He's standing there, towering over her as she gives him her best look of defiance and it occurs to him that his hand is still wrapped around her wrist. He's briefly reminded of the last time they stood this close, when she all but handed him her assured humiliation in return for his absence at her gala. He can't admit to her that he'd already made his mind up to go even before his father had told him his attendance was mandatory.

He tries to imagine what his life would be like without this game, as she's called it. He's never viewed it that way until now but perhaps it's always been a game. Both too competitive, and much too stubborn, to concede because maybe he enjoys the verbal disputes too much to simply leave her be.

But as soon as the idea strikes him he refuses, just as quickly, to entertain it, and lets her hand go as if it's burned him.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy," he mutters, pushing past her.

They work in relative silence for the majority of their detention. She only breaks the silence to reluctantly advise him to leave behind the pods from the center of the moon dew so they will take seed back into the earth and grow again. James grunts in response but does as he's told. Thea knows herbology better than most students, and without Longbottom's guidance, he knows he's better off listening to her than trying to muddle his way through his own guesswork.

When they've collected enough moon dew to replenish the herbology stores twice over, they move on to finding the betony. Her mood sours further when she finds only a few traces of it, disrupted leaves at the base of mysteriously flowering trees. He's certain they've passed a few patches but doesn't say anything out of either uncertainty or defiance when she is too distracted by glancing at her wristwatch again and again.

"Have somewhere to be?" he asks, when she looks for the fourth time in under ten minutes and when she looks up at him under the light of his lantern, he can see that the dark circles under her eyes have grown thicker. "Merlin, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," says Thea, her voice not quite as curt and she places her palm against her forehead. She sighs. "I just...it's late, is all."

It's hardly 8 o'clock. He doesn't say that because he can't deny she looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with what happened last night?" he asks her and her hand drops as her eyes widen.

"What did you just say?"

"Last night, you seemed out of it. I just assumed you weren't well."

"I seemed out of it? The last time I saw you yesterday was at the pitch. As I recall, I was decidedly...with it."

He rolls his eyes.

"Seriously?" he asks. "That's not funny."

He's annoyed for only a few moments because there is no playful taunting in her eyes, only concern. She's trying to remember, which means it's entirely possible that she's not wearing the jumper to spite him after all.

"I was on rounds last night, patrolling the courtyard corridors. It was raining," he tells her, pausing as her eyes dart frantically towards the ground. "You honestly don't remember?" he asks and she shakes his head.

"Tell me."

"I came around the corner, and I saw you just near the large arch under the Astronomy Tower. You were completely out of sorts, standing there in the rain, cold as ice. You looked…" he stopped, shaking his head as he tried to rid the image from his head. "You looked like you were drowning," he pauses, remembering the way her fingers clawed at her throat, the sound of her violent gasp when he lifted her from the ground, soaked in cold rain. He doesn't tell her that the sight terrified him.

"My dream," she whispers. "You were there, you said my name."

He nods.

"I remember, I think. I remember the dream. I must have been sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking?" he says, nearly laughing at the idea. "I've never seen sleepwalking like that."

"It's just something I do," she says offhandedly but her eyes don't meet his. She's lying. "It's what the potions are for. To make sure I sleep. To make sure I don't go wandering around the castle."

James remembers the potions they'd found in her dorm the night Dom had reported her for contraband. He'd thought it was strange but didn't find any reason to doubt Scorpius when he'd explained the reason for their existence. But as she tries to brush off the incident, James can't help but wonder if it's something more.

"I'm sure you all had a great laugh," she says, fear replaced by something he's not sure he's ever seen on her face before. But as the heat rises to her cheeks it's clear she's using her anger to mask her embarrassment.

"I didn't," he says quickly. "I mean, I haven't said anything. Except to Albus."

He's an idiot, he tells himself. He has Thea Malfoy under his thumb, thinking he's spread her secret to the entirety of Gryffindor, and without pause, he's eased her anxiety with his admission. Perhaps he is going soft.

"And why not?" she asks, doing her best to sound defiant but she sounds on the verge of tears like she did the night of First Friday even though he was too drunk to realize it at the time. She's close again, this time it's his doing as he steps forward and takes the basket from her hand. She clears her throat. "If it were me, I'd have announced it to half the school by now. Bloody flyers, buttons and the lot."

"I'm sure," he says but he believes it as much as she does. They both know she wouldn't. But neither knows why.

He can see her breath as the moon appears from behind a cloud and their proximity makes him wonder where his breath ends and hers begins. It's the second time tonight he glances down at that bloody sweater and he remembers putting it on her. He remembers it all. Her pale skin, her near lifeless eyes, the blue color of her lips unlike now. Even now in the darkness he can see that they are pink, unaided by her favorite shade of red lipstick and he hates that he knows that.

And he wonders.

The autumn breeze whips through the trees and the psithurism causes them both to shiver. He wonders if it's the chill in the air or the lack of space between them that causes her lips to quiver. He wonders if he's ever seen her hair in the disheveled mess it's in now on the top of her head, and why he finds it endearing. And he wonders if he'll ever muster up the bullocks to tell her the jumper is actually his.

He wonders if she wonders as well, if she wonders why he can't seem to say anything else. If she wonders why he hasn't told everyone how he found her the night before.

Most of all he can't help but wonder what will happen if this silence lasts any longer.

"Ah, there you are," a voice disrupts and it could have been a gunshot with the way they both flinch and Thea busies her black fingernails with brushing her hair anxiously behind her ears. "Any luck with the betony?"

Something is wrong with him, he thinks when he can't even muster enough pettiness to tell him he spotted a patch twenty minutes prior.

* * *

x


	8. Chapter 8

x

* * *

 **BURN**

 **Chapter Eight:**

 _It's All in the Guesswork_

* * *

 **ALBUS**

His nose is broken.

It's not entirely his fault, however, and though he tries to explain this to Alec, there is little sympathy in their captain's eyes.

He's disappointed. They all are as they try to ignore the muffled cheers of Hufflepuff house beyond the walls of the pitch. They sit inside the locker room, beneath the stands and under the cool stare of Alec Zabini who would have split his broom in half had he not already thrown it across the room.

Albus holds his robes to his nose to stay the bleeding.

Thea doesn't bother to hide her black eye. Albus cringes, however, at the sight of her broken wrist.

It's not the first time she's broken a bone during a match. In fact, it's not even the first time Albus has broken a bone. He'd taken a bludger to the ribs during the final match of last season. But last year they won every game.

This year they've started with a loss.

"I don't even know what to call what went on out there today," Alec grumbles and while he has every right to be disappointed in a loss, the match was more than impressive.

They may have lost the game, but they also set a school record in points gained before the catching of the snitch. It's why Thea looks the most disappointed. She's just played the game of her life and has little to show for it.

"Elara, were you asleep out there?" he asks and the girl glares daggers at him in response. "You broke Thea's wrist."

"I was aiming for Lysander," she says dryly and Albus tries not to look annoyed. It's part of the game, he reminds himself.

"Well your aim is rubbish," Alec hisses. "Hufflepuff had no issues with aim." He motions to Albus' nose. "This puts us at the bottom."

"Calm down, Alec. There is still time to come back from this," Thea says.

Alec shakes his head.

"You look like death," he mutters. "I told you, you weren't ready to play."

Thea stands, hiding the pain as she stands and steps forward. Alec is a head taller than her but Thea is much more imposing with her glare.

"I scored fifty points today, together the three of us scored eighty. That's unheard of," she replies and while neither Emery or Sarlic are particularly fond of her, they nod their heads in agreement. "Instead of blaming us all, you should be…"

"What? What, Thea? I should be praising you? Telling you how wonderful you did?" he says, and his voice is nearly a shout. "If you hadn't fouled Macmillan…"

"If I hadn't cut him off, you'd be in hospital. He was going to blindside you. The only reason it was called a foul was because the idiot purposefully fell of his broom."

"It doesn't matter. It was distraction enough for Scamander to get the snitch. You got in the way."

"Oh come off it," she says, her voice rising to meet his own and they both glare at each other for several moments.

"We lost," Albus interrupts them and it's loud enough that all eyes turn towards him. "We lost, and it's not the first time we've lost. If you should be blaming anyone, you should be blaming me."

"Albus…" Thea warns.

"No, it was my fault. My head wasn't in the game today. I could have caught the snitch an hour ago but I didn't. I couldn't. So stop laying into the rest of them. Thea, Sarlic, Emery...they scored eighty bloody points. Hufflepuff scored, what...ten before the snitch was caught?"

"I still think that one shouldn't have counted," grumbles Finnbar Flint, nursing his bloody lip with a grimace.

"Either way, I fucked up. Not them."

Thea is itching to defend him but Albus refuses to look at her. He can fight his own battles, he reminds himself. He's easily one of the weakest players on the team but he's still here because of her. He knows that. Last year they went undefeated but Albus could never admit there was a bit of luck involved. The only reason he plays is because of Thea.

And today he let them all down, her included.

He stands, not waiting for Alec's final words as he dismisses himself.

The walk back to the castle is a steep one and he contemplates flying despite the awful pain in his nose. He wants to stop at the hospital wing for a fix before running into Thea. She can fix a nose, she has already tried before he brushed her off on the pitch. But she'll assuredly need help with her wrist seeing as it's her wand hand.

October is nearing its end and the next match won't be until the start of November. It will be colder then and Albus hates the cold weather. Now is nice, the chill in the air isn't so bad as leaves change and fall to the ground in piles of red and orange. His feet shuffle through several piles before he hears footsteps bounding through them from behind his back.

He's ready to ignore Thea as the footsteps grow closer and he musters a proper scowl on his lips. He's surprised, however, that the figure is not his small friend, but instead Lysander, standing tall and clad in his canary yellow robes.

"I wondered if you'd ever get out of there," he says, grinning from ear to ear and despite the loss Albus can't help but smile in return. "I assume by the shouts I heard when you came out of there that spirits were pretty low?"

"You could say that," Albus says and he can feel Lysander's gloved hand graze against his own.

"I know we won, but everyone's still raving about that score. I almost felt bad when I got the bugger," he says, referring to the snitch and Albus simply shrugs.

"I was distracted," he says.

"By me, perhaps?" Lysander asks and Albus finds himself grinning like an idiot once again. He lets his hand fall into his and their fingers intertwine like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"A bit," Albus replies.

"Not still about Malfoy?" he asks and Albus looks up at him, his smile fading somewhat.

"I just," he starts and shrugs. "I snapped at her. About us."

"Us?" Lysander asks, nudging him slightly with his hips. "There's an 'us' now?"

"I dunno," Albus says, his cheeks flushed red and Lysander squeezes his hand as they pause mid-step. "I'd like there to be."

"Would you?" Lysander says, raising an eyebrow. Albus' heart is nearing his throat as they stand there, their eyes meeting.

It's not exactly how Albus was hoping it would be. He's standing there with a broken nose and blood dripping down his face but Lysander is looking at him as though none of that matters and so he steps closer. Lysander, his small smile pulling wider, reaches for his wand and points it at Albus' nose. He whispers, _Episkey_ and though the resetting makes Albus hiss slightly, he's grateful for the slight relief.

"Thanks," he says, earning a nod from Lysander as they start back towards the castle.

Lysander's hand grasps his once again and there is momentary silence as they walk. Albus tries desperately not to think about his sweating palms or if the two sixth year Ravenclaws they pass notice. He only focuses on Lysander, this beautiful blond who Albus was scared to talk to for years. Now they are here, together.

"She'll come round," he says, interrupting Albus thoughts. It takes him a moment to realize Lysander is speaking about Thea.

"I'm not sure she minds but I did sort of blow her off," he admits and Lysander shrugs.

"She doesn't seem like the kind of person to take that to heart," he says. "You know her better, obviously. But I'm sure she would give you space if you wanted it. The two of you are together so much, it only seems natural that things would become strained."

"It's just," starts Albus, but he pauses when he thinks of her. He can imagine Thea, alone in her dorm, locking herself away with Magnus because he's her only friend aside from Albus. "She's my best mate."

"Well you're far from the first mates to have a row. Just let things settle down. I'm sure you two will be fine," says Lysander and Albus feels an ache in his heart. "Besides, if Albus Potter and Theodora Malfoy can't survive a little argument, I'm sure the entire school would descend into chaos from the unbalance."

He feels a lightness rise through him at Lysander's statement. It's true he and Thea have never really argued, not like this. The two are generally honest with one another and Thea doesn't hold back her opinions when it comes to things that irritate her. But they've survived harder things, less trivial than a brief argument.

They can survive this.

But a slight twinge of guilt rises in him when he thinks, perhaps, that he could stand a few days apart. That things between him and Lysander are in a place he wants to explore more and Thea's constant presence has already started to put a damper on things.

He'll make up with her, of course. He'll apologise to her, because that's what Albus does. But for a brief moment, he allows himself this independence.

A moment solely belonging to him.

* * *

 **ROSE**

There is an undeniable autumnal feeling in the air that causes Rose to grin from ear to ear as she walks with Scorpius down the path to Hogsmeade. It's the second trip to the village of the year and suddenly as she walks by his side she feels as though the season is passing too quickly.

They are engrossed in conversation, so much so that she hardly notices that they've arrived. She's always known he was smart, but getting to know Scorpius Malfoy and his mind has become one of her favorite pastimes. His mind spins with ideas and opinions that make her wonder and at times, these thoughts challenge her own mind to expand.

Still, she chides herself when she is lost at the thought of his lips against hers and the desire to kiss him again makes her feel exceedingly foolish. The sense of wonder in his own eyes as she speaks passionately about her own opinions makes her think, perhaps, that he wants to kiss her too.

But still they walk a fair distance apart and she hates that she flushes when she sees people staring back at them and whispering. Scorpius either doesn't seem to notice or refuses to acknowledge the fact that people are talking about them because his sole focus is on her. His only embarrassment seems to be every time their fingers graze and he clears his throat anxiously.

She doesn't know where the courage comes from when she grabs his hand then, the opinion of the others be damned. Scorpius is flustered, but his smile tells Rose it was the right decision. She likes that he's so flustered that he's forgotten what he was saying as they approach the Three Broomsticks.

Roxy stands outside, bundled in her scarlet and gold scarf and grinning ear to ear.

"Well, it's about time, you two," she says. "I thought we'd have to send out a search party."

"Head Boy duties," Scorpius says, apologetically.

"That _does_ put a damper on things, doesn't it. Spending our night out with the Head Boy and all," Roxy replies and Rose sees Lorcan nudge her gently with his elbow. Rose's eyes bulge as she silently tries to communicate to Roxy to be nice.

"On the contrary," Scorpius says, clearing his throat. "I suspect having the Head Boy on your side would make things that much easier."

Roxy raises an eyebrow and Lorcan smirks in response.

Rose squeezes Scorpius' hand.

"Shall we?" Rose asks and they all nod, Lorcan holding the door open for each of them to pass.

Spirits are high in throughout the pub. There is a great deal of laughter as many of the younger students experience the village for their first Hogsmeade outing. As usual, there is a large crowd of older students jostling for the bartender's attention as they take the opportunity to partake in a few pints which they're allotted.

Hufflepuff House is cheering loudly, still celebrating their unlikely win against Slytherin earlier in the day and it is clear by the drinks in hand, the rejoicing is far from over.

Roxy shoos away several third years from her favorite table while Lorcan gets her a butterbeer. Scorpius uses his undeniable noticeability to order her them both tonic waters as Rose sits down across from Roxy.

"So this is a thing," Roxy asks, eyeing Scorpius curiously. A smirk appears on her lips. "I mean he's definitely cute, I see the draw. But I am just surprised, I guess. Though maybe I shouldn't be. He's as big of a nerd as you are." Rose frowns. "I'm just picturing Uncle Ron's face when he finds out."

"Roxy," Rose warns and her cousin laughs.

"Oh, come on. You can't keep it a secret forever. I mean are you a couple?"

"I don't know," Rose answers honestly, looking back at Scorpius who holds the tonics in had as he chats with Lorcan, still waiting for his own order. "I think so, maybe? I mean, we haven't exactly talked about it."

"Not much time for talking when you're snogging, eh?" she asks and Rose blushes furiously as she tries to suppress a smile. "I'm happy for you, I am. But I'm just thinking about the family and I would hate for you to experience any backlash. Think about Albus. He's just friends with Thea Malfoy and look how hostile Sunday dinner can be when it gets brought up. If it comes up that you are dating Scorpius. I'm thinking you're dad would lose his bloody mind."

"I don't care," Rose says quickly, but she knows there is a slight tug as the words come out.

Perhaps she does care. She can't deny that her father still harbors unsavory views of the Malfoy family. He sees Rose as his pride and joy. She can't imagine what he'd say or think if he knew how she felt about Scorpius. She so desperately wants to not care, as she's just said to Roxy. She wants to be like Albus, who seems to take no mind in what anyone says about his relationship with Thea.

She wonders if she could have the same courage.

Noticing Rose's anxiety, Roxy quickly changes the subject, nodding to the corner where James sits, Valerie Thomas' hands toying with the collar of his jumper.

"I thought they'd broken up?" Roxy says. Rose furrows her brow curiously at the sight of James and Valerie, lips locked in the dimly lit booth. "And she is still dating Preston, isn't she?"

"She is," Rose responds. "Or she was. As of yesterday."

"James has been acting weird all day," Roxy replies. "At the match he was hardly paying attention. And you know how he is when it comes to Quidditch. I don't think he even scribbled one note in that silly little notebook of his."

Rose can't help but agree as she attempts not to stare at the two of them and their very public display of affection. Lorcan and Scorpius must be talking about it as well, because both of them are glancing over at the couple as they walk over, drinks in hand.

"The Potters sure seem to be in high spirits this weekend," Lorcan says, his eyebrows wiggling as he says so and even Scorpius chuckles at the insinuation.

"Potters?" Roxy says. "As in, plural?"

"Before I met you in the courtyard, I saw Albus and my brother walking down the road hand in hand."

"Albus?" Rose and Roxy asked at the same time.

"And Lysander?" Roxy adds and Lorcan nods.

"Is this news?" Scorpius asks and the three of them glance over at him in surprise. He lowers the glass of tonic from his lips in confusion. "I thought it was common knowledge that they were a bit of an item."

"You knew?" Rose asks.

"I'm not blind. I've seen the two together quite often since the start of term. I'm not one to take interest in such things but even I thought it was quite obvious," he says and they all stare at him with wide eyes.

Roxy breaks the silence with a laugh.

"Well, would you look at that. I'm thinking Albus will be receiving much less heat at the next family dinner," Roxy says and Rose kicks her lightly under the table. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Why would he get less heat?" Scorpius asks and there is an awkward silence at the table as he looks to Rose. When his expression changes, she can see that he understands. "Oh," he says and Rose shakes her head.

"It's just," she attempts, stuttering slightly as she tries to find the words.

"Albus is very private about his personal life," Roxy fills for her. "The family is so nosey, myself included. I think they'll all be quite relieved to finally have a little insight."

It's a good deflection of the real reason for the family's relief. It seems, as Scorpius clears his throat and excuses himself, that the reason is not lost on the others as well. Rose stands to follow as he walks towards the bar and grabs his hand gently. He doesn't turn as he slides easily through the ground but he doesn't shake her off as he pulls her through the crowd of bodies to stand at his side.

Whatever he orders from the bartender, with a silent gesture of his fingers, is not tonic.

"Scorpius," she says and he looks down at her but his expression isn't his usual charming grin.

"It's fine," he says, his tone stoney and she feels suddenly very embarrassed about the entire situation.

He grabs the small shot glass of something clear and downs it, his eyes clenched.

"I get it, Rose. Your family, they don't like mine."

"It's not like that…"

"It is, though."

"It's not you," she reminds him, her hand on his chest and he glances down at it. He places his hand over hers.

"But it's my sister," he says and her eyes fall from his piercing gaze. "And if they don't like Albus being friends with her, why would they accept me?"

"I don't care what they think," she whispers, stepping closer but he shakes his head.

"But I do," he tells her. "It's easy for her. Theodora plays into the stereotype. She lets people buy the Malfoy bad girl persona because it's easy. But I'm not that person. I can't stand the way people look at me when I tell them I'm Draco Malfoy's son. They don't see me, how hard I work to be different, to be my own person. They only see the past."

"My family isn't like that," she tells him although there is a slight pang of guilt as the words come out of her mouth.

"Rose," he says, shaking his head. "I know you think that because you are standing here and I'm lucky that you look at me the way you do. But I've seen the way your father looks at mine. The way Mr. Potter talks about my sister being a bad influence on Albus."

"If they'd just take the time to know her, to know _you_ , I know they'd see the same things that I do," she insists, squeezing his hand. Fellow students stare again but she doesn't care, this time she knows it's true. "Please just be patient with them. Once they see how brilliant and kind you are, they won't be able to see you as anything short of spectacular."

His eyes contrast the straight line in his mouth. He's desperately trying to seem stoic, unmoved, by her words but there is contradiction in his blue eyes. She stands on her toes, rising to his level as she places her lips against his and it must take him by surprise because it takes him a moment before his hand wraps around her waist.

Her lips rise at the corners as her fingers lace through the flaxen hairs at the nape of his neck. She thinks he smiles too because she feels his lips curve against hers. It's strange, she thinks, as she tries to recall seeing Scorpius Malfoy smiling but before this year she can't remember a single instance. Now, she feels as though perhaps that smile was meant for her, and the joy it brings makes her heart sing.

"Wow," he whispers when she finally breaks away, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks at such a display and she opens her eyes to his burning above her. "I like your logic, Miss Granger-Weasley." 

* * *

**JAMES**

It's been over a week since the Forbidden Forest and still there is unrest somewhere inside of him that causes him to feel quite unlike himself. He doesn't normally waste free period on coursework but he knows he's slightly behind in a few classes which is why he finds himself in the dungeon corridors, several Slytherin sixth years passing him on their way to class.

His free period is usually spent outside, absorbing the sun. Today he'll spend it in the Potions Lab, trying to perfect an Oculus Potion. He hasn't brewed one since sixth year but Professor Slughorn has hinted it might appear on the N.E.W.T.s in the spring.

It seems several other students have similar plans, when he rounds the corner to the entrance of the classroom and sees it's fairly busy with students busying themselves with their cauldrons. His usual spot is occupied by a third year Hufflepuff so he's eyeing another when he spots his younger cousin, Lucy, stirring away, her red hair frizzing at the ends as yellow steam rises out of her cauldron.

He furrows his brow as he approaches, noticing a second figure at Lucy's left, a girl with her face half-buried in her Slytherin robes. It only takes a moment before he recognizes the familiar brunette braid tied at the end with an emerald ribbon and his brow furrows in confusion.

"Lucy?" he says and the small girl looks up at him in surprise.

"Oh, hello James," she says, almost formally, as she concentrates and he expects Thea to stir at his name but she doesn't budge.

"What are you doing here?" he asks and she glances up at him with a perplexed frown.

"I'm working on a potion," she says, as if James had asked the most obvious question in the world and he smiles at her seriousness.

"I meant, with Thea Malfoy," he clarifies and she glances down at the sleeping girl and Lucy's lips form an 'o' as she looks back up.

"She's been helping me prepare for my exam next week. I've almost got this potion perfected but I thought it needed a bit more work so I asked for her help."

"You asked Thea Malfoy for help?" he asks, confused and she gives him that look again as if he's mental.

"She's the best in her year," she tells him, grabbing the dropper from near Thea's unmoving fingertips and places it inside a vial labeled, 'Lethe River Water.'

"I know quite a bit about potions, you know," he tells her and she smirks. He's not sure he likes it because it is a very Thea type smirk and he wonders just how much time his young cousin has been spending with her.

"She's in here all the time," she explains. "And well, you're busy. So are the others. I even asked Rose but she spends all her time studying for her own exams. And Thea was nice to me on the train, so..."

"She was?" he asks, remember the day he had shamelessly tried to pawn Lucy off on his brother and Thea on the Hogwarts Express. Guilt starts to rise over him now.

"Yes, she was. She said if I ever needed anything, all I had to do was ask. So I did."

"And she just, helps you? She doesn't ask you to do anything in return?" he asks her, glancing down at Thea's sleeping form. Her lips are slightly parted as she breathes slowly.

"No. I think she likes the company, to be honest," she tells him, using her wand to add heat to the bottom of the cauldron. "She's usually in here alone."

He hasn't realized it until now, but there have been more than a few times he's come to the lab and seen Thea working diligently on something or other. He hasn't paid much attention until now, normally trading his free period for frivolity rather than studies. But despite how he feels about her, he can't deny Thea's brilliance in many subjects.

"Mr. Potter," he hears from the front of the classroom and his head perks up, noticing Professor Slughorn summoning him over from his desk.

James approaches, watching as Slughorn scribbles in the margins of his text while another simultaneously writes on a blank bit of parchment to his right. He looks up as James reaches his desk and glances back towards Thea and then again to James.

"I hope, you have not come here to disturb anyone," he says and James doesn't have to ask as to who the man refers.

"I've just come to practice, Professor," James says and Slughorn's quill stops as he eyes him curiously. "I swear."

"Yes," Slughorn says slowly, his eyes traveling back to Thea. James glances back as well and then looks as his professor expectantly.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?"

"No, no, my boy," he says, suddenly flustered as if his thought was interrupted. "Just, if you would please refrain from any altercations with Miss Malfoy, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course not," James agrees. "But, Professor," he adds, glancing back over his shoulder. "You do realize, she's sleeping?"

"Yes," the old man says thoughtfully, his eyes softening. "Let her sleep."

James doesn't argue, only nods, as he walks back towards the supply closet and he pulls his wand out to summon several vials from various shelves of the store room. He doesn't hear the footsteps behind him, only hears Valerie's voice when she places her hands over his eyes and whispers, "Hello, Darling," in his ear.

He nearly drops each of the vials in response.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, collecting the glass bottles from where they levitate nearby and places them on the counter.

"I wanted to see you," she said, letting her hands slide over his chest as she lets her body press against his and he sighs.

"Val, we talked about this."

"Oh I know, Jay. But come on, it was fun the other night, wasn't it?"

"It was a mistake. We were both drunk and it shouldn't have happened," he tells her, keeping his voice down. When he tries to step away he steps back into the shelf and wonders how girls are always managing to corner him.

"I wasn't that drunk," she says with a smirk, her hands toying with his tie and James can smell her perfume. Regret is mixed with the memory of her body and his, intertwined, and though the draw is there, it's fleeting.

He pushes her hands off gently.

"Well I was," he repeats. "I was distracted and angry and I took advantage of you being there. I shouldn't have. And I'm sorry."

"Jay," she says, the way she always used to say when they were together. "I wanted it to happen. You and me, it's how it should be. It felt good to be with you. I've missed it."

"You're with Preston," he reminds her and she sighs.

"Merlin you're blind," she tells him. "I only got with Preston because I thought it would piss you off the most," she says and he shakes his head. "Though maybe I should have tried to get with Malfoy," she grumbles. "Maybe you would have noticed then."

"Don't be like that," he says, when he hears her playful tone sour.

"What, I'm just saying, if you'd spend half as much effort on this, me and you, as you do trying to outwit Malfoy, then maybe we could try and make a go of this again. And make it work this time," she says and she's pulling gently on his tie again and he feels himself growing more frustrated.

"This was wrong," he says again. "It shouldn't have happened."

"Why?" she asks and her voice is low but her eyes speak volumes as she steps back. "Why am I not good enough for James, fucking, Potter?"

"Christ, Valerie," he says, shaking his head. "Me ending things before had nothing to do with you being 'good enough' okay?"

"Well then why? We were good together, weren't we?"

"We had fun, sure. Things were good for a while. But things changed, _I_ changed and that has nothing to do with you. I just don't know what I want right now and I can't do that to you, you don't deserve someone who can't figure out what the hell they want."

"But I loved you," she says and he can hear the tears in her voice and James feels instantly like a bigger ass than the first time they did this. "I still do."

"I know," is all he can say, scratching the back of his neck. "And I'm sorry. There's no easy explanation. But I do know that what happened the other night, it can't happen again. I can't do that to you."

She stares at him and he sees her eyes glistening in the light above them and the pang in the pit of his stomach grows. She wipes her eyes and straightens her skirt as she walks back up to him. She's almost his height and it's impossible not to meet her eyes when she walks up to him, places a hand on his cheek, and he turns when she leans in, causing her lips to graze his cheek and she sighs.

He watches her turn, starting towards the door and for the first time they notice Thea standing in the doorway, cauldron in hand and deep dark circles under her eyes.

"Of, fucking, course," Valerie says under her breath.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Thea says, her voice tired as she flicks her wand to put away the pewter cauldron as it floats towards the top shelf, stacking itself neatly on top of the others. "I'll just…"

"You just can't help yourself, can you?" Val says, clearing her throat to hide the near tears that were threatening to fall moments earlier.

"Excuse me?" Thea asks and James places his hand on Valerie's shoulder which she instantly brushes off.

"You. You're always there. Everywhere I go, it's like you pop up when you know it will bother me the most."

"Well, Thomas, I can assure you I've been here quite a while and it was in no way part of a master plan to cross paths with you," Thea says, her composure steady despite her disheveled hair and tired eyes. "Now if you don't mind…" she says, brushed gently past Valerie, not making eye contact with James as she opens a few drawers located directly between him and Valerie.

"Oh, but I do mind," Valerie hisses. "That's precisely my point. I take issue with your very presence. You're a constant plague on my existence."

"Wow, and here I thought _you_ were the one who was obsessed with me, Jamie," Thea mutters dryly as she inspects one of the boxes she pulls from the drawer.

James nor Thea expects when Valerie slaps the box from her hands, her eyes burning with fury. Valerie is not quite as tall as James, but with the small lift in the heel of her shoe, she still looks down on Thea from her height.

Thea, doesn't look taken aback, only amused.

"Stop smiling at me," Valerie hisses.

"I don't know what this is all about but…"

"You. It's about you and your inability to take a hint," Valerie says. "You lurk around, sticking your nose in everyone's business. You think you're so clever, Malfoy, but you're just pathetic. Utterly, unwanted. And you can't get that through your thick skull."

James tenses at Valerie's words, knowing Thea's limits almost as well as his own, and despite the fatigue that Thea attempts to hide, he sees her fingers twitch at her sides. Her jaw clenches and if Valerie's eyes are fire, the blaze in Thea's eyes is an inferno.

"I'm fond of this expressive being you've decide to become, Valerie," Thea says slowly. "But whatever anger you've decided to take out on me, is clearly misplaced. So take a breath, and walk away, because I only have so much patience left today."

Valerie's laugh is deep, slow at first but it rises out of her chest as she stares down at Thea, shaking her head.

"You think you're so fucking important, don't you," Valerie whispers.

"Valerie," James attempts but it's a mistake because both girls have nearly forgotten his presence and Valerie shoots him a silencing glare.

There is a long silence as Valerie stares at Thea, challenge in her eyes and James recognizes that while Thea is putting on her usual stony expression, she's still only that tired girl from the forest he saw a week ago and he knows this can't go on much longer before one of them reaches their limit.

"I'm bored of this," Thea says, her voice low in warning and she picks up the box that has fallen to the floor and slides it back into the drawer, closing it softly and steps in the direction to leave. "Feel free to resume whatever infidelity you had planned for the afternoon."

James isn't sure which happens first, but he sees Valerie's hand fly back, followed by Thea reaching for her wand. He makes a decision, gauging the damage and uncertain what an angry Thea Malfoy might do in the heat of the moment, and he shouts out "Expelliarmus," collecting Thea's wand in his spare hand just as Valerie's hand flies across Thea's face.

The force is enough to throw Thea off balance and she catches herself on the counter, nearly running into James as she does so. When she regains her balance, she looks up at Valerie in disbelief and then to James, spotting her wand.

"Thea," he says. "I was just…"

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she hisses, snatching her wand from James and flinching when she notices the cut on her lip. As does he. "That...is the last time you take my wand, James Potter."

She's shaking it as she scolds him, so he's certain it looks worse than it is when they're spotted by Professor Slughorn. To say he's angry with them, is an understatement, and James almost feels bad at how red in the the face the old man manages to get when he shouts at the three of them to report to the Headmaster's Office.

Thea's small legs manage to outpace both he and Valerie on their way to McGonagall's office. She disappears around corners, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence as James stays a few steps behind.

"There's something off with you, James," Valerie says from ahead of him. "You haven't been the same for weeks."

James is glad that she doesn't look back at him because he can't exactly hide the acknowledgement in his expression. She's not wrong. He hasn't been himself and he still can't pinpoint why.

"It's nothing," he says, trying to deflect and she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she quickens her steps only slightly. "And you took it a bit far in there, didn't you? I know you were upset but did you really have to...I don't know. It was a bit much, is all."

Valerie spins around.

"See!? This is what I mean. Why the bloody hell do you care if I went too far with her? Since when does the thought of knocking her down a peg or two, turn your stomach?"

"It doesn't...I don't care. It just doesn't suit you is all," he attempts because if he's being honest he doesn't know how to explain himself.

"Why? Because you're the only one allowed to poke fun at her? Right, because tearing down Malfoy is all you have going for you, isn't it? That and being Harry Potter's son."

James feels something stir in him at her words. He's not sure if it's deep-rooted embarrassment or fear. But either way he feels his eyes fall to the floor as she looks at him in disgust. She's speaking out of anger, but her words have meaning, to both of them.

"At least Albus doesn't use your father's fame as an excuse to be mediocre. You think everyone around you worships the ground you walk on, Jay, but you're just as pathetic as her." She's still talking about Thea, he realizes. "Everyone is sick of it by the way. You and her, sparring all the time. They laugh because it's what you want to hear but we're not blind. Stop wasting everyone's time with your hate act. If you want to fuck her, just do it and get it out of your system so you can stop being so painfully boring to be around."

She leaves then and James is unable to follow, rooted to his spot in the stairwell where students begin pouring in after the end of free period. He steps back, into the wall to let them pass and ignores several strange looks in his direction as students push by.

Valerie's words seem ridiculous as they hang over him, bearing down against his shoulders and he tries desperately to shake them off to no avail. James' insecurities are pouring in, breaking through the walls he tries so desperately to hide them behind. She's not entirely wrong, he thinks, about being Harry Potter's son, anyways. He uses it as perhaps he shouldn't. But it's only so he doesn't let them see the truth, that perhaps he's a little more like Albus than he thought.

That the burden of being Harry Potter's son is almost too much to bear. And the pressure of his uncertain future is starting to rear its head.

* * *

 **THEA**

She's late to Divination, thanks to the altercation with Valerie and James, and so she fully expects a long-winded scolding from Professor Trelawney when she arrives. She is surprised, however, as she climbs the seemingly infinite spiral tower, that Professor Trelawney is not in the classroom either.

Tables are occupied by students, talking quietly amongst themselves in hushed whispers as they huddle over newspapers or scribble on parchment. There is a definite tension in the air, heavy with some sort of dread that she can't quite place but it only sours her mood further.

Albus notices her as she walks in but doesn't make eye contact as he looks back across from him at Lysander. Thea feels unnecessary rage towards the tall blond and feels her nails digging into the flesh of her palm as she looks for a vacant seat of her own.

There is only one.

Bas sits alone, the only student not reading the paper, and she can see where the heavy scent of sage is coming from when she sees him hanging the lightly burning herbs above the table. While most students in their class prefer the burning of mallowsweet, she finds sage more effective in relaxing what Trelawney calls their 'inner eye.'

She sits down next to him and he looks up at her, slightly surprised, but doesn't tell her to leave. Instead, he sits down across from her, pulling out a few rolls of parchment from his satchel and places them next to the text they've been assigned to read for an upcoming seance.

"Any luck conjuring spirits?" she asks and a grin appears on his lips.

"Any luck getting out of another bought of detention?" he responds and she raises an eyebrow, curiously.

"Good news travels that fast or did you see that in your afternoon tea leaves?" she asks him and he lets out a chuckle.

"The former, I'm afraid," he tells her. "The tea leaves spoke of an opportunity for upcoming festivities that would arise but I haven't quite figured that one out yet."

"I'm starting to feel as though detention is a way of life for me now," she says boredly, lighting her own small batch of sage and hanging it next to Bas'. "Like in Third Year when I had that rebellious streak that got me sent to McGonagall on a weekly basis."

"So when exactly do you think that rebellious streak is going to end?" he teases and despite the anger still pulsing through Thea's veins, she can't help but smile at his cheek. "So, throwing hexes in the Potions store room? How harsh was McGonagall on that? Please tell me she saw fit to kick you off the Quidditch team?"

"Nothing so drastic, Sebastian," she says and his exaggerated disappointment leaves him with his lip puckered slightly. "It was determined that while I was, in fact, caught shaking my wand at your mate, James, I was also only defending myself from a debatably deserved slap to the face by Valerie Thomas," she says, pointing to the cut on her lip. "So I'll be in the library arranging books for Madame Huynh."

"That doesn't seem so…"

"Without magic," she specifies and he cringes. "So where is Trelawney?"

Bas shrugs, sliding the Daily Prophet over in front of her where the front page has a picture of a beautiful woman with dark features and knowing eyes. She suddenly sees why the room is so sullen, her eyes traveling over the words. The headline, "Prominent Seer, Death Linked to Dark Magic Followers" sends a wave of uneasiness over Thea as she scans the article.

No names are mentioned, but the woman, Parvati Patil, is a known participant in the Battle of Hogwarts and the war against Lord Voldemort. She recognizes the name, from the text sitting in front of Bas, and she knows this woman was not only a student with her father at Hogwarts, but also the promising protege of Professor Trelawney.

"Why do they think it was linked to dark magic?" she asks and Bas opens the newspaper to the the inside page where there is a picture of a note.

 _Traitor_ is the sole word on the image, but in place of the 'o' is a symbol she knows quite well.

"The Dark Mark?" she whispers. Bas nods. "Voldemort's dead. Why would anyone use his mark to further their agenda?"

"Why not?" he says. "The Dark Mark was a symbol that struck fear into everyone during Voldemort's reign of terror. Whoever is using it now, wants to remind people of that fear."

She reads the article in full as she processes Bas' words. He sits across from her, taking notes from the text. There are no suspects to the murder, and no details of what actually happened to Parvati Patil. Only that there was evidence of dark magic used at the scene and that the note left was, as Bas said, likely intended to stir discomfort through the wizarding communities.

Thea thinks of her father, of the life he's put behind him since the war and she wonders if it stirs the same fear in him as well. He doesn't talk about it much, but she knows it was a time he was ashamed of. She can see it in his eyes every time someone looks at him with skepticism or fear.

She closes her eyes as she closes the paper and sets it aside. Her breaths are deep and steady and the sage causes her to relax into each breath as though she is sinking into a dreamlike state. But she's awake, fully aware of the whispers she tries to drown out and the light clanking of Bas' lighter as he flicks at it absentmindedly.

And then it stops.

"Are you alright?" he asks and she opens her eyes. He's looking at her strangely.

She looks down at her hands, fidgeting with the edges of her robes and slides her right hand across the table, slowly. He stares at it as it inches closer. She turns it, palm side up and he sighs.

"Thea," he says warily, glancing back at the parchment.

"You've seen something," she whispers. "I saw it the day you took my palm on the bridge. Tell me."

"I am a novice, at best."

"You're lying," she says. "Trelawney herself says your potential is greater than most students she's taught in a lifetime."

"I still don't think you should put stock in these things. It's not like I look at you hand and I see your future. It's all feeling, guesswork."

"Ok, now you sound like Rosie," she says, frowning. "I know you believe in this stuff. Hell, I believe in this stuff. And you're lucky enough that you have the intuition, I lack."

"You know as well as I do that it's not exact."

"I don't care," she tells him. "An approximation will do."

"I don't know what I saw," he tells her. "I couldn't be sure…"

"Then look again."

He stares at her palm and then back at her.

"Why do you want to know?"

"You already know the answer to that too, I think," she says and he sighs again, this time heavy as he reaches slowly for her hand.

He places her hand hand in his left and brushes his right fingers over the flesh of her wrist, down several lines as they bridge and intertwine. There is uncertainty in his eyes, but there is also something else, the something she wants defined. She's seen the same look in his brown eyes when he took her reading before. This time, the same as last, he pauses over the life line. He glances at her left hand, flips it as he analyzes the same line in the left and shakes his head.

"It's conflicting," he says.

"What is?"

"These, here, look at the edges of the base of the line," he says, pointing to the freys of her life line on the right hand. "And the rise in the Mount of Venus." She sees the mount, pronounced and wide.

"So you're saying I'm great in bed," she half-heartedly teases but he doesn't smile.

"The mount is well-defined, sure, but I see something else," he tells her, pointing lower towards the thumb. "You're private, but that's obvious. But this is something else entirely, something you won't share with anyone. Something that is driving a wedge between you and others...or will...I don't know, it's all blurry."

"So in summary?" she asks him and he's shaking his head.

"Whatever you're hiding," he tells her, placing her palm back on the table gently as he glances back down at it. "It will only make things worse the longer you keep it inside. And if it's what I think it is...then you should stop pretending it's nothing."

She's startled by Bas' realness in that moment. They've rarely ever had a moment pass between them without sarcasm or laughter. But there is real concern in his eyes, mixed with the confusion he feels and it's that which frightens her. Bas is not just guessing. He feels it, he sees it. And perhaps it's unclear to him, but to her his words hit hard.

She clears her throat, pulling her hand back onto her lap and she forces a smile that they both know is false.

"Am I right?" he asks her and her response is a small rise in the corners of her lips. "Why, then?" he asks and her brow wrinkles slightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Why bother with all of this? It's obvious it only makes it harder for you."

"No, Sebastian...it makes it easier. In the long run."

She gathers her bag, letting her braid fall across her face as she reaches down to grab it in hopes that it hides the fear in her own eyes. She pulls the sage from where it hangs above them and places it on the plate on the table where it will simmer out eventually, like the anxiety rising in her chest.

As she starts to leave, she spots the tea cup on the table near Bas' quill. She looks up at him, his eyes still watching her curiously and she points to the cup.

"What was it you said again about festivities?"

* * *

 **** **x**


	9. Chapter 9

**x**

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Nine:

 _They Say the Slytherin Common Room is the Gateway to Hell_

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

It's Thursday night and the library is crowded, perhaps more than usual. His study group is larger than last week and he knows the number of O.W.L students continues to rise with the upcoming Astronomy exam for fourth and fifth years. He's grading practice exams they've done earlier in the week whilst they work in pairs and he's trying desperately to pay attention but is distracted by red hair and a pair of eyes that keep meeting his.

Rose is not part of his study group but she too has taken to the library on a Thursday night to work on her potions project with Thea. She's standing in a nearby aisle while Thea flips through pages of a very large book called _Potions and Lunar Motions_ which she nearly disappears behind.

Rose, too, seems distracted as she keeps looking over though Thea pays her no mind and instead keeps scribbling in her notebook. Scorpius looks back down at the paper in front of him and he marks off a few points for a partially correct answer about the Andromeda Galaxy.

"Scorpius," one of the fourth years speaks up, and he looks up from the paper to see them all staring at him.

"Yes, Aida?" he asks.

"We were wondering, or rather we heard a rumor," she starts and one of them nudges her to continue. "Is it true that the Slytherin's hold a secret party in the dungeons every year?"

Scorpius furrows his brow as he sets his quill down on the desktop.

"Where did you hear that?" he asks.

"I heard it from a girl in Gryffindor who swore she overheard wto Slytherin seventh years boasting about it in the greenhouses yesterday," Aida says and Scorpius scoffs.

"I am not sure how valuable that information would be," he mutters. "And anyways, if the Slytherins were throwing a party every year, the faculty would know. There are enchantments in place to keep students from such things."

The students look disappointed as they glance back down at their parchment and Scorpius leaves them to their work as he grabs a list from his book and walks over to Rose. He can see Thea's expression change even though she doesn't look up from her book but he ignores her annoyed frown as he watches Rose pretend she hasn't noticed him at all.

"Lunar studies?" he asks, glancing down at the title and she smirks. "I happen to know a great deal about Astronomy. Top marks, in fact."

"For now," she teases, still glancing down at the page though she hasn't read a word since he arrived.

"I've read this book a few times," he tells her and she's trying desperately to hold back a grin. "If you were looking for something in particular…"

"Milton's Method," Thea pipes up from where she sits atop the desk and for the first time Scorpius notices how tired she looks. He furrows his brow, watching her hazel eyes glance up from her notes. "We're looking for how it is affected under a New Moon."

Scorpius remembers learning Milton's Method last year, appropriate for adjusting weather conditions in enclosed spaces in order to mimic seasonal patterns. He can only assume they must be attempting it for their potions project but he's never actually seen it performed. It's a spell they barely glossed over in 6th Year Charms and he's never found a reason to attempt it until now.

"You won't find it in there," he tells them and Thea gives Rose a look that signifies that perhaps she already knew this. Rose closes the book in frustration.

"I've been reading this for hours," she says and Scorpius grins, finding her annoyed grumbling adorable.

"There is a book that might help," Scorpius adds and they both look up at him, their attention peaked. "Come on, I'll show you," he says and it must be clear he's speaking to Rose because Thea doesn't budge.

"I'll wait here," says Thea, boredly.

Scorpius and Rose glance at each other and Rose shrugs when he gives her a questioning look. He tells her he'll meet her over in the Lunar Studies section and she nods, leaving him with Thea who bites anxiously on the edge of her thumbnail.

"Have you been getting any sleep?" he asks and she jumps slightly as if she's already forgotten he was there.

"Yes," she says, glancing around. "I haven't forgotten any potions so you don't have to worry about it."

He stands next to her, leaning against the study table that she's perched on. He can see her scribbled notes are rushed and scratchy, unlike her usual neatly looped cursive and he frowns.

"You look terrible," he says, a misstep he immediately regrets.

"Thanks," she mutters.

"I just mean," he attempts but he has never really been the best at saying things like this and Thea always manages to brush him off. "I'm worried about you. When was the last time you talked to Albus?"

"Albus is busy," she says, another abrupt answer and he wonders how she simultaneous manages to continue writing at the same time.

"Well," he says hesitantly. "You know you can talk to me...right?"

Her quill stops scratching and there is a pause before she looks up. For a moment, Scorpius thinks she might say something, allude to anything akin to whatever has been weighing down on her these last few weeks but she lets out a barely audible sigh before shaking her head.

"Rose is waiting," she says finally and maybe he expected it but he is still disappointed by the callous response as she returns to her notebook as if he'd never interrupted her at all.

Lunar Studies is only a few aisles away, but it's secluded and obscure enough that no one, aside from Rose, is anywhere to be seen. She notices his concerned expression and returns it with one of her own but he tries to shake it off, chalking up Thea's attitude to her lack of sleep and row with Albus.

"Is she alright?" Rose asks and the sincerity in her voice surprises him. No one ever asks him about his sister except perhaps their father or McGonagall. But Rose looks as worried as he feels.

"She's lonely, I think," he speculates. "She and Albus still haven't made up and I don't know that there is anyone else she gets along with. Except you, of course."

"We're not exactly close," she says and he nods.

"It's not easy to get close to my sister," he tells her, stepping closer and pulling her hand into his. "Don't take it personally."

"I don't," she says. "I already have one Malfoy under my spell. I'm not sure it is possible to have you both." He laughs, kissing her cheek. "You don't think she's mad, do you? About us?"

"She and I don't get caught up in our relationship statuses," he tells her. "And anyways, Theodora rarely gets mad about anything."

"I don't know," Rose disagrees. "I've seen her lose her mind over James."

Scorpius can only laugh.

"Yes, you're right about that," he says. "But James Potter may be the exception. The most severe reaction she can usually muster is utter indifference. She's content in her own world."

"What about you?" she asks him, inching closer and Scorpius watches her fingers toy with the edge of his tie. "What gets under Scorpius Malfoy's skin?"

"Currently," he says and he lets his hips meet hers as they stand so close that he can smell her sweet perfume. "I think the only thing that can get under my skin is you."

"I hope that's a compliment," she says and he nods, placing his lips against hers despite their usual abhorrence for public affection. But it's the third time he's been unable to control himself and he blames her for being so god damn enticing.

He likes the way she feels against him, the way her hands toy with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. He loves the taste of her lips and they way the corners of them curve when he wraps his hands around her waist.

Rose Granger-Weasley is magic.

* * *

 **THEA**

A storm is brewing. She can see the large black cloud looming in the distance but she does her best to ignore the impending downpour as she glances back down at her notebook. She finds the chaos of the Gryffindor quidditch practice soothing as she concentrates on her homework for Ancient Runes.

Her only company is the redheaded Lucy Weasley at her side. Lucy doesn't appreciate the shouts of the quidditch team quite as much, but she tolerates it enough for Thea's sake as they both scribble notes onto their parchment. Lucy's nose is scrunched slightly as her quill pauses and Thea allows her a full five minutes of confused pondering before chiming in.

"Tubers," says Thea and Lucy's head snaps up. "That's the word you're looking for isn't it?"

"Yes," Lucy says with a wide grin. "It's the piece inside the pod of the Snargaluff? The green pieces?"

"That's right," Thea replies, back to her own homework. "If you need more research I have a copy of _Flesh-Eating Trees of the World_ in my dorm. I can lend it to you."

"Would you?" Lucy asks, her voice high. Thea suppresses a smile, and pretends not to be proud of the young girl's interest in herbology and simply nods.

A shout causes Thea to glance up and she can see James Potter hollering indistinguishable things to his players as they hover nearby. While she can't quite make out the words, she knows it has something to do with Davy's nearly hitting him with a bludger. He takes the club from his beater's hands and throws it in the opposite direction. Their match with Ravenclaw is only one week away and as usual, Potter is consumed with his desire to win.

Slytherin has won the house cup, two years in a row and she can only recall losing to Gryffindor once during her second year. She doesn't plan on losing to them this year despite the unfortunate start her house has had to the season.

The Gryffindor House team practice has attracted a number of spectators. Most are other house team members, hoping to get an idea of where the team stands in preparation for the upcoming match. There are several other students watching, a pack of third year girls who whisper and giggle each time one of the upperclassmen flies by.

Nearby she can see Valerie, attempting to look as though Thea's presence doesn't bother her, but Thea has noticed her look over a total of twelve times since she sat down with Preston Corner. A few rows down, Scorpius watches intently through a pair of binoculars. His expression is stoic but she knows her brother well enough to tell when he's anxious. He wants desperately to win.

Thea tries not to glance at the bottom bleacher where Albus sits with Lysander but it's impossible to ignore them. Despite brushing off the topic with Scorpius, the lack of Albus has taken its toll on her. She feels distracted without her usual outlet. She could spend hours talking to Albus. Without him she has very little interaction with anyone of interest.

But he looks so happy, she realizes when she wants to feel sorry for herself. Albus smiles so infrequently with anyone other than her that it throws her off. The way they look at each other. The way Lysander's fingers graze Albus' back.

She can feel the jealousy eating away at her. She wants to hate Lysander, but she's too busy loving him for the look he's put in Albus' eyes.

Something she can't give him.

"Do you think the two of you will make up soon?" the small voice asks from beside her and Thea's eyes immediately glance back down at her parchment, pretending they haven't been caught staring.

"Sorry, what's that?" she asks, and Lucy gives her a knowing look.

"It's just," she starts. "It seems like you don't have many friends. Other that Albus, that is."

Thea smiles as she says, "You're about it these days, kid."

Lucy straightens slightly.

"You," she pauses, grabbing hold of the auburn braid over her shoulder. Attached is a scarlet ribbon that matched her scarf. "You consider _me_ a friend?" Thea's brow furrows.

"Well why not? I don't mind you so much."

"You don't, _mind_ me?" she asks, confused and Thea sighs.

Part of why she has so few friends is conversations like this.

"Don't take it personally, Weasley. I mean it as a compliment," she says and Lucy bites at the corners of her cheeks as she goes back to studying. Only when she thinks Thea isn't looking does she allow a small smile to appear.

As the clouds thicken overhead there is a drop in temperature The wind whips around them and Lucy shivers until she can no longer stand it. She leaves with a small goodbye and Thea is alone once more, the weight of it hitting her like a hex to the chest.

She glances again to Albus, who is now concentrating on Roxy as she hunts the snitch around the pitch, and his fingers are laced in Lysander's. Her heart sinks deeper inside her chest. She should just say something, she knows it, but for the first time in her life Thea has no idea what to say to her best friend. Nothing seems good enough to quell the tension between them.

The stands creak slightly on her right and when she looks up, Valerie Thomas is standing over her, arms hugging herself as she too shivers from the icy breeze. It's a different look than the one she was met with the store room, this time she isn't containing a fit of rage. Now she looks anxious.

"I'm not really in the mood," says Thea, turning the page of her textbook. Valerie looks over her shoulder to where Preston stands chatting with one of the other Gryffindors.

"I'm not here to fight," she says and Thea lets her quill fall mid-sentence. "What you saw. In the store room."

"With you and Potter," Thea fills in and Valerie looks over her shoulder again. Thea realizes where this is going. "You think I'm going to tell your boyfriend?"

"I considered many possible outcomes. That one seems the most likely," Valerie says and Thea shakes her head. "I wouldn't exactly blame you."

"I can't tell if you want me to out you or not," Thea says, her forehead creased.

"Not, would be preferable," Valerie says quickly.

"Not that I was eavesdropping, but I do recall you saying something about only dating Corner to make Potter jealous."

"I know what I said," she mutters. "But please. If you have a heart…"

"Great way to start," Thea adds and Valerie sighs.

"Please, Thea," the girl says, using her name this time. "Please don't say anything."

Valerie's eyes are begging her as desperately as her words and Thea is eager to disappoint the girl in response for the split lip and the week's detention she received. But something stops her. Her mind is suspended in a heavy fog and she can't even muster up a clever response that might put the girl on edge a few days while she considers it.

Thea shakes her head, picking up her quill as she scribbles a few symbols in the margins of her paper, hoping Val will think she looks busy or uninterested. But then she nods, a curt up and down of the head, and looks up from under her dark hair up at the girl whose lip quivers anxiously.

"Don't worry about it," Thea says finally. She tries her hand at looking genuine. "Despite what you may think, I have very little interest in your business or Potter's."

The girl doesn't say thank you but she returns Thea's words with a nod of her own. It's the best she can do and Thea can't exactly blame her.

In the distance, the sun dips low beyond the mountains. Evening is quickly approaching and soon it will be curfew. She waits as the others disperse, small groups at a time until Thea is left alone in the stands. The players on the pitch are dismounting their brooms, gathering quaffles and bludgers to stow away. Roxy has the snitch, handing over to James who places the final piece into the trunk and locks it safely inside.

Thea doesn't say anything when a tall figure sits down beside her. She knows he's concerned and he's doing his best to be a good brother but it's clear it pains him, the insistence, the pushing. And yet together they sit in silence, both weighed down by the words they leave unspoken.

She's surprised when she feels his gloved hand over his. It's not cautious like she'd expect from him. Instead it's deliberate. He curls his fingers around her own and through both of their gloves she can feel the warmth radiating off of them. She doesn't look down at them, or at his eyes that stare ahead towards the fading sunlight in the distance.

And for once the silence says exactly what she wants to hear.

She doesn't squeeze back but she leans her head down and it rests on his shoulder. The last time they sat like this, she held her brother as he cried. For hours he wept for their mother and Thea sat there, unable to shed a tear. She feels like that girl again, uncertain and broken, as if there is something wrong.

But Scorpius' hand reminds her that despite the weight of the solitude she feels bearing down on her, she isn't alone.

Not entirely.

"Do you think you could use your fancy Head Boy powers to..." she says quietly.

"Don't ruin it."

* * *

 ****

 ** **ALBUS****

The storm lasts for days, the rumbling never ending and the rain falling in icy drops from the darkened sky. Surely it will snow soon, he thinks, as he walks through the courtyard, holding his wand so the umbrella covered him and he groans as he steps in a deceivingly deep puddle.

Mud cakes his shoes but he doesn't stop to fix it, only carries on, feeling his socks soaked all the way past his ankles. He shivers slightly, the dampness in the air sticking to him as his breath appears in front of him. He is too lost in thought that he nearly runs into Dom as she steps in front of him, her own spelled umbrella above her.

"Albus," she says, her smile wide and lips stained with pink lipstick. Bev, her girlfriend, stands nearby, trying not to eavesdrop.

"Dom," he says, his brow furrowing inwards.

"I heard a rumour going around," she says, toying with the edge of her scarf. "About you and Lysander."

"Oh?" he asks, fixing the strap of his bag and he glances away.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she says. "I'm happy for you, that's all."

"Well it wasn't exactly advertised," he says, he mutters because he doesn't particularly care for all the rumours going around. She scoffs.

"Albus, you're family. We should talk about these things."

"Why?" he asks. "I don't see why it's anyone else's business. If I wanted people to know about it…" he stops when he notices her smile fading into a frown. She's hurt by his words and now Albus feels even more flustered than before. "I just mean, I don't like to talk about stuff like this."

"I noticed," she says, her voice low and she sighs. "But we're happy for you, all of us. I know your parents will be too."

"I haven't told them," he admits and she places a hand on his shoulder. He stares at it for a long moment and she pulls it away slowly.

"Well when you do, I know they'll be thrilled. Lysander is a great guy. And when they see how much happier you've been lately, now that you have him instead…"

Albus feels his jaw clench slightly at the words. They ring in his head.

"Instead of what?" he asks and this time she is the one looking away and she brushes the bottom of her lip with her thumb. Her lipstick smudges slightly.

"Well you know," she replies and he isn't sure why it takes him so long to get the hint. She means instead of Thea.

"Dom," he warns. She holds her hands up.

"Come _on_ , the difference is night and day. I know it was hard to adjust here at Hogwarts but look how great things are right now! I've never seen you so happy."

"Funny," he says, his tone laced with anger. "Because I've never felt so unlike myself."

"I am sorry, about what happened between her and I."

"What _did_ happen, exactly?" he asks and it's not his business but he's tired of being polite.

"It's not important anymore," Dom says and Albus can see the familiar look of shame in her eyes. "But I hate what I did even though I knew it was for the best."

"She cared for you," he says and her eyes meet his once more.

"She told you that?"

"She didn't have to."

"Are you going to be mad at me forever?" she asks, her arms crossing over her shoulders and he doesn't like that she looks ready to cry. "I'm your family."

"So is she."

It sounds corny and cliche but he says it anyways as he pushes past her, gently nudging her shoulder as he does, and he finds his pace quickening into a jog as he rushes through the courtyard, down the long tilted bridge, until he realizes he's now running.

He doesn't bother with the umbrella, gasping slightly as the cold rain strikes the skin of his cheeks and it burns until it goes numb. His dark hair sticks to his forehead and his lips quiver and though he's running, he's not entirely sure where he's going until he sees the lake in the distance and he knows that's where he'll find her.

He stops, catching his breath as he searches the shore and he can see a small figure sitting atop a large boulder, throwing pebbles into the lake. The water is rough from the rain which thickens as the minutes pass. She doesn't have an umbrella. Even from here he can see she looks soaked through.

He finds a steady pace as he walks over, his shoes making squishing sounds in the mud, small rocks crunching under each foot in movements that slow the closer he gets. In contrast, he feels his heart racing, pounding so hard he feels as though he might leap out of his chest and if he knew what the hell he was planning to say he might have rehearsed the words before he found himself standing before her.

She looks down at him, her knees pulled to her chest, her brunette curls flattened against the milky white flesh of her face. Albus feels his heart sink when he sees the dark circles creased under her eyes, her lips nearly blue and unmoving and he wonders how long she's been out here.

He shifts, his mouth opening and closing several times and she watches him intently for several minutes as he does. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the raindrops sliding down her cheeks were tears. He's right next to the rock in only a few long strides and when he reaches his arms up to her he sees her lips quiver, but not from the cold.

She doesn't reach back.

"Thea," he says, his breath visible between them. "I'm…"

"No," she says quickly, her voice low. "Don't say it."

"Why not?" he asks, swallowing hard and he feels his chest ache as he reaches his hands higher. She shakes her head and his arms fall to his sides.

"Because I don't deserve it." she tells him. "You fell in love with a boy and instead of being there for you, I was a total cow and made it all about me," she tells him and the lump in his throat grows. "I should have noticed. Merlin, I might be the only one who didn't."

"I would prefer to go back to when no one did," he admits. He reaches up to her again, this time, his eyes meet hers. "Please, T," he whispers. "Can we be done with all this?"

This time she reaches out to him. He has no problem catching her. When he does, her arms wrap around his neck and she buries her face into his shoulder. He closes his eyes as he pulls her to his chest and the weight of everything is replaced by the pressure of her body in his arms and everything feels like home.

"I'm so sorry, love," she whispers softly.

"Hey," he says, pulling her gently away from him and places his hands on either side of her cheeks.

There is relief in her hazel eyes and he can't help but smile when he places his lips briefly against hers. It's a small moment but it's enough that when he pulls back her lip no longer shakes and she lets her head rest against his forehead. She closes her eyes and he can see her long sigh in the air.

"Don't tell Lysander I did that," he teases and she chuckles lightly. "Apparently boyfriends don't like it when you kiss other people. Even if it's just your best friend."

"I missed you," she says.

"I missed you too," he tells her, laughing. "Ignoring you is far too exhausting."

"Agreed," she tells him. "Can we promise never to do it again?"

"Deal," he says, without skipping a beat. He pulls back to look at her and he fumbles for his wand as he conjures his umbrella to stop the rain from consuming them. "Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing."

"I hadn't noticed," she says, but she isn't teasing as she wipes rain from her face.

She, too, pulls out her wand and whispers a drying spell over Albus and repeats one for herself until the water rings out of the ends of her hair and she's left with wavy unkempt locks that fall down her back. Grateful for the warmth, he grins down at her and places his hand over hers. Their fingers intertwine effortlessly.

"Hey," he says, nudging her. "Want to skip supper and go straight to the kitchens, see if they'll make us that dessert you like?"

She smiles for a moment before it fades and she shakes her head.

"Can't," she tells him. "Detention."

"Again?" he asks her. "I thought you'd finished?"

"I had a run in the other day in potions lab. Valerie Thomas slapped me across the face after I'd walked in on her and your brother in some sort of argument."

"I guess I should be surprised, and yet…"

"And yet, this time it wasn't my fault," she pleaded. "Not entirely anyway. I did try taking the high road."

"But then you decided, what fun would that be?"

"She kept pushing. It's not my fault she couldn't take as good as she gives," she says and he snickers.

"There's a joke in there somewhere," he teases and he's rewarded with a smile.

"She did say something about using me to make James jealous," she recalls. "If she wasn't so insufferable, I might have participated in her plot."

"You know, he has been a little strange lately," Albus adds. "Ever since he quit the Prefects."

"Quit?" she asks.

"That's what my mum wrote in her last letter," he tells her. "She and dad have been worried about him lately. It's been a nice change of pace."

"No doubt they think I'm to blame."

"They did ask," he says honestly and she lets out a quiet scoff.

"He's been weird since the forest," she admits. "He told me he was the one who found me the night I went for a sleepwalk."

Albus remembers now, the way James had rushed into his dorms, dripping wet, to tell him he'd found her outside on the grounds. Albus had been only half awake when he was dragged out of bed and James never entered the hospital wing where he'd left Thea in the care of the mediwitches. He tries to remember if that's when he noticed a change as well.

"I was going to tell you," he says and she nods.

"I know," she tells him. "If I hadn't been so self-absorbed that day…"

"Then you wouldn't be my best friend," he interrupts and they both laugh.

He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back.

"It's good we did this," she says when they reach the bridge. "It would have made for an awkward All Hallows Eve."

"You're really going through with that then?" he asks and she nods. "If you get caught..."

"No Slytherin has ever been caught. I'm not going to start this year." She doesn't appreciate Albus' look of skepticism. "I'm even turning over a new leaf," she tells him and he raises an eyebrow.

"What does that mean?" he asks her and underneath the red eyes and dark circles, he recognizes his friend as she smirks.

"You'll see."

He's not certain if he likes the sound of it or not.

* * *

 **JAMES**

There is something in the air, he can't put his finger on it, but it lingers over him and he has the distinct feeling something is going to happen. Bas doesn't seem particularly concerned, he notices, and perhaps that's a good thing. When Bas has a bad feeling, that is when he usually gets worried.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks and Bas rolls his eyes as they walk through the corridors, each of them carrying their potion textbooks and he isn't even entirely certain why.

"You sound more like a prefect than when you actually _were_ a prefect, Jay," Davy says and James' mood only sours further as he frowns.

"Well it sounds like a trap," James replies. "You get invited to a mysterious party by Malfoy and suddenly no one is concerned that she could be setting us up."

"She's not setting us up," Bas says, and his voice is short because it's the second time he's had to say it tonight. "I saw it."

James frowns.

"Saw it how? In one of your _visions_?" he asks and even Davy finds humor in this statement.

"The leaves never lie, mate," Bas replies, unfazed as they continue downwards into the dungeons.

"I've heard about these, you know?" Davy says. "Rumours of Slytherin parties, always under wraps. They say they've never gotten caught."

" _Who_ says?" James asks.

"I overheard it from a few Ravenclaws who were invited last year. They were talking about a Yule party thrown in the dungeons. No one ever knows when it'll be. It's some sort of hazing ritual for sixth years to throw an undetectable party, right under the faculty's noses."

James isn't sure about it all but he's overruled and admittedly curious. He's been actively avoiding Thea since he managed to land her in another detention and he has a feeling that going into the lion's den won't exactly help things.

"Relax, mate," Bas says. "It's going to be a good time."

"If anything we'll get to see what all the fuss is about," adds Davy. "They say the Slytherin common room is the gateway to hell."

"Then speak of the Devil," James mutters as they approach the end of the corridor, a large stone wall that hides the Slytherin common room stands before them.

As well as Thea Malfoy.

She's head to toe in black. Black heels, black jeans and a black blouse with thin straps. Her dark curls fall down past her collarbone and atop her head are a pair of devil's horns, the same deep red as her lipstick. She smirks when she sees them.

"I wasn't sure if you'd have the bollocks, Sebastian," she says. "You didn't say you'd be bringing friends."

"But you hoped I would," he replies and Thea's smile widens, an impish grin to match her subtle costume.

"Perhaps," she says, snapping her fingers and James is startled when a long scroll appears, unraveling itself to reveal what looks like a contract with three lines at the bottom. "Just a standard privacy contract, ensures that you'll keep your mouths shut about what goes on tonight, that sort of thing."

"Does this say you own our souls?" Davy asks, picking the bottom of the parchment up from the floor and she shrugs.

"Just for tonight of course," she says with a wink in James' direction and he's already contemplating how he can get out of this. She must notice his hesitation because she hands him the quill first. "Don't worry, Jamie. It's just a formality," she whispers.

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" he asks and she doesn't lose her smile as she dances the quill in front of him.

"Would it make it easier if I tell you I have exactly three bottles of vintage Bilshen's firewhiskey from my uncle's cellar in Inverness?"

Something stirs in him then and he wonders how exactly she knows that Bilshen's is his favorite brand of whiskey. He quickly assumes it must be his brother's doing.

"Cinnamon?" Davy asks and both Thea and James make a face at the same time.

"Christ, Finnegan. If you want that cinnamon flavored shit, I hear Davis and Corner are spiking the cocoa in the library," she says over her shoulder and holds the quill once more up at James. "Well, Potter? What's it to be?"

James stares down at her, ignoring Bas' smirk from behind her and he realizes the challenge in her eyes is one he isn't going to be able to refuse. He doesn't break eye contact as he signs his name on the first line and there is a warm sensation that rushes through his veins and he wonders if he's made a huge mistake.

The others quickly follow suit, Davy grumbling under his breath as he does so, and when he's done she snaps her fingers again and the parchment rolls itself up and disappears with a magician's poof.

"Ready for your potions lesson?" she says, pulling out her wand, waving over the stones.

Her words are something strange, vaguely familiar but in a different language. It takes him several moments to realize she's speaking parseltongue as the stones rearrange themselves to reveal a tall, ornate, wooden door behind it. They all lean in to take a better look, walking through the doorway which reassembles behind them. They see only a handful of Slytherin's sitting at tables with books in front of them. One of them yawns.

When he looks up Thea's eyes are on him and he raises an eyebrow.

"This is it?" he asks and she laughs, snapping her fingers once more.

The scene in front of him changes so immediately that he is startled at the blaring music and the flashing lights. She grabs their books and throws them in a pile inside a tall cupboard nearby. The room is crowded with bodies, mostly Slytherin but he sees several students from other houses as well.

"Gryffindor royalty, everyone!" she says, her voice elevated by her wand and the room erupts into amused and drunken cheers. She glances over her shoulder, beckoning them with the crook of her finger. "Welcome to hell, boys."

She disappears into the crowd, finding her way to the leather couch near the fireplace, grabbing a coupe of champagne on her way. She drapes her legs over Albus' lap then and he assumes by the smiles on both of their faces that they've made up from whatever row they were having.

Bas drags him to a table covered in bottles and glasses float around filling themselves with ease. There, in the center, are the three bottles of firewhiskey Thea had previously alluded to and when he pours himself a glass and glances in her direction, she raises her glass from across the room and he reluctantly does the same.

He turns then to Bas and Davy, their glasses filled to the brim in the form of shots and the too raise their glasses.

"To the dead," Bas says.

Davy and James repeat in unison. "To the dead."

The firewhiskey burns his throat as he downs it but the feeling that follows is courage laced in euphoria. Whatever misgivings he has about Thea and this party, are quickly fading into the back of his mind.

James doesn't like dancing, but somehow in the span of an hour he finds himself on the dancefloor with several Slytherin girls who eye him curiously as if he's one of Professor Hagrid's magical creatures. The music pulses and hums as the liquor swirls through him and decides, as Torra Bletchley's hand slithers up his chest that, perhaps dancing isn't so bad after all.

He's out of breath when the song ends and Torra whispers enticing offers in his ear though he excuses himself for another drink. She grins, saying she'll allow it if only he'll bring her one as well. James agrees, pulling her arms from around him and finds his way back towards a table filled with delectable sweets where Davy seems to have taken up permanent residence.

He's sitting, a pint in one hand and a girl sitting on his lap, their lips attached in drunken lust. He only stops when she slips away, promising to return and he tells her to hurry back. Davy downs his drink with an idiotic grin and James joins Bas in a round of laughter.

James is handed a beer and something he assumes is spliff, letting the drag linger in his lungs longer than usual before exhaling it slowly up into the air. When it's all left his lungs in a glorious cloud of heavenly herb, his eyes are drawn towards the fireplace on the other side of the room.

She doesn't see him. Or if she does, she pretends not to notice as she sits there, sipping on the same champagne she's had in her hand since they walked in. Albus sits next to her, slumped together on the leather couch and James wonders how his brother always manages to keep Thea Malfoy engrossed in conversation when no one else can.

James watches her from the corner of the room where he stands, only half listening to Davy and Bas babble on about one of the Slytherin sixth years Bas has been trying to chat up. But James hardly notices the girl in question. He's drawn in by lazy smiles and dark red lipstick that currently stains Albus' cheek.

He doesn't know if it's the firewhiskey muddling his brain or the herb Bas has handed to him but there is something swimming through him and he finds himself willing her to gaze to meet his own.

"Merlin bless Slytherins and their expensive taste in alcohol," Bas says from beside him and James finally pulls his eyes from Thea long enough to see that his fellow Gryffindors are fully reaping the benefits of the situation at hand.

James isn't sure how they manage to get so many people in under the noses of the professors, but the Slytherin common room is filled to the brim with upperclassmen in various stages of intoxication. He has to concede that he's impressed.

James takes another long drag before passing the herb to Bas and then turns back to see Albus sitting alone, the seat next to him on the black leather couch now vacated. He peers around the room, unable to locate her red devil's horns or her matching lipstick amongst the crowd of girls dancing to music so loud he can feel it in his chest.

He stands, taking his empty bottle with him as he feigns interest in grabbing a few more, promising his comrades something for them as well. At the drink table he finds bottles, filling themselves every time someone takes a pour, and he grabs a bottle of something dark and walks toward the large prominent window nearby. Outside is the Black Lake which, unlike its name, does not seem very black as he peers out into the blue-green abyss darkened by the night.

"Having fun, Potter?" a voice whispers from behind him, like a purr, and he spins around to see her standing there, still holding her near full champagne coupe, her lips pressed together in a curious grin. He smiles back.

Something is assuredly wrong with him.

"Since when is my mood any concern of yours?" he asks, attempting and failing to to erase the grin. Her lips rise further at the corners at his mocking. "Really Malfoy, it's rather disturbing how obsessed you are with me."

"Funny," she says, stepping closer so that they are now side by side. She stares out at the lake but James is unable to look away from her. "I was about to say the same thing."

"So," he asks but he pauses when he realizes he doesn't want to talk about Albus. He doesn't want to mention the way they laugh and smile because something inside of him is sick of the image.

And so he says nothing except "so" and she stares at him when the moment lingers. She places her hands front of her, closing one eye as she places her fingers in the shape of rectangle. Her glass floats nearby.

"There he is again," she says dramatically. "I see why she couldn't keep her hands off of you."

His brow furrows as he asks, "Who?"

She looks like she's about to answer but she doesn't and pulls out a small silver case from her back pocket. The case is engraved with an ornate letter "M" and inside are what look like several hand-rolled cigarettes. She pulls one to her lips, sliding the case back into her pocket but then searches another pocket for a lighter which must not be there because she looks put out when she doesn't find it.

James suddenly remembers Bas handing him his lighter which James slipped into his pocket earlier when his friend found a distraction on the other side of the room. James pulls the lighter out and sees the surprise in her eyes when he lights it for her. She looks up at him, under her dark lashes and leans in, taking a few puffs as the end glows red.

The heels maker her only slightly taller.

"The devil without any fire? Sounds problematic," he whispers and she scoffs lightly as she blows the smoke from her lips. When she pulls the cigarette from her lips she holds it in front of him.

James' hand twitches at his side for only a moment before he reaches up for it, noticing the red lip stain around it as he takes it from her. He closes his eyes when he places it to his lips, inhaling what is most definitely not a cigarette. The herb is delicious as it winds its way over his tongue and down the back of his throat.

When he opens his eyes he nearly chokes on the smoke when he sees the blue-green water overtaken by a large creature, more specifically it's large eye and tentacles that dance across the glass.

"What in Dumbledore's name is…" he starts, through his fit of coughs and Thea laughs, stepping forward and placing her hand against the glass.

"Giant squid," she says, the tentacle sliding up over her hand, the glass between them. "He likes the music."

James watches her as she stares into the eye of the giant squid, her fingers tracing over the glass in patterns that the squid mirrors and the light from the candles that float above them glimmers off of her black nail polish. Nearby, her coupe still floats and he notices for the first time there is no lip stain on the pristine glass full of fizzing liquid.

"Something in the booze I should be concerned about?" he asks, nodding towards her glass when she looks back at him with a furrowed brow and she glances towards it. "Or do you just not like champagne?"

"I, happen to _love_ champagne," she tells him, taking the glass and placing it to her lips. She leaves behind her lipstick and he smirks.

"Then why are you only just now having a drink?" he says, wiping the lipstick from the cup and she glances up at him.

"More perceptive than I thought," she says, cocking her head to the side. "I do love champagne," she says. "But I prefer my parties sober."

"Fair enough."

She's looking up at him from under her lashes so she doesn't have to stretch her neck upwards to meet his eyes. He doesn't step back, hoping that she will. He reaches for the glass in her hand and he places it on a small study table nearby. When he looks back there is less space between them than before, but he doesn't know which one of them has moved.

"So," she says, her voice small and James swallows hard, remember that he's still holding the herb between his fingers, Thea's lipstick smudged from his own lips.

"What's in this anyways?" he asks when he can't come up with anything else and she's about to speak when they're both interrupted.

"James," he hears over the music and it's a long moment before his eyes leave Thea's and he turns to see Torra standing nearby, her fair hair draped over her shoulder. "I thought you were going to get me a drink?"

"I...uh...got distracted. Sorry," he says, clearing his throat and he hands Thea the rolled cigarette from his hand.

"Don't worry about what's in it," Thea whispers then, leaning in so that her breath grazes against his skin. "I think you'll like it," she tells him.

He allows Torra to grab hold of his hand, her fingers lacing between his and he realizes that his palms are damp. The music consumes them once more and she summons her own glass. When she sips the champagne, her pink lipstick doesn't leave a mark.

James allows her to lead him onto the dance floor and their bodies move together to the beat. She excuses his tense moves, easing him to relax but he can't seem to concentrate on her or her blue eyes that stare into his and the way she bites her bottom lip.

Instead, his eyes are again drawn away, this time directly across the room where Bas stands, his arm leaning against the wall as he towers over a girl smaller than him. He wears a sly grin and sips his scotch from a glass the girl hands him. James frowns when he realizes said girl is Thea.

"You ok?" Torra asks, closing the gap between them, her hands on his hips and instead of delighting in the pressure of her body against his James only sees Bas' body against hers.

"Yes," he says quickly, trying not to be distracted by the way Thea toys with the edge of Bas' loosened tie, or how Bas makes her laugh when he whispers something in her ear. He feels his jaw clench at the sound.

Thea was wrong, he thinks.

Whatever this herb is, he doesn't like it. At all.

* * *

x


	10. Chapter 10

x

* * *

 **BURN**

Chapter Ten:

 _Of Boyfriends and Best Friends_

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

The sun is barely up in the early November morning and he's sure there is soon to be snow with the increase in temperature drops they've seen over the last two weeks. The light seeps into the courtyard slowly, peeking slowly over the mountains, and his sister is sprinting down the covered bridge, silhouetted in sunrise.

When she reaches him she comes to an abrupt halt, leaning over, hands on her knees as she gasps for air.

"A bit brisk outside for a run, don't you think?" he asks and she shakes her head though whatever words she attempts are muffled by deep visible breaths. He decides it's probably better this way. "I heard about the party," he says, gauging her reaction with calculating eyes. She doesn't look up but he can see her furrowed brow. "I don't know how you did it, but whatever you've done, you've put me in terrible position." Still nothing. "You know I have to report it."

"Report what, exactly?" she says between labored breaths.

"Report the party."

She stands, finally, and wraps her arm around his shoulder, grinning wildly.

"Is this a birthday prank?" she asks, her breaths becoming more even as they walk. "I should tell you, it's not a very funny one."

"Theodora."

"Scorpius?"

"Did you throw a party in the dungeons on Halloween?" he asks her and her face levels.

"I can see why you'd think I could be capable of such a thing, knowing my true nature and how approachable I am to the masses of my peers. However, as you may have noticed, here at Hogwarts I have very few friends, I can count exactly two at the moment. Also with my stint in detention and my strict sleeping schedule, I have very little time to be planning secret parties."

"Thea…"

"No, Scorpius. I did not throw a party on Halloween," she says and he scoffs, watching the twitch in her lip as she pulls against the corner's involuntary tugging. Her tell.

"You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible brother if you try and turn your own sister in, on her birthday no less."

He stares at her for several moments before rolling his eyes. He can't admit that he wouldn't turn her in simply because he's too intrigued to find out how she did it. If he turns her in, he'll never find out how, let alone _prove_ how she managed it.

"You're impossible," he mutters and she smiles as she loops her arm through his. Her hands are like ice against his skin and he flinches at the touch.

"So you won't turn me in?" she asks, batting her eyelashes. He tries to ignore the dark circles beneath them.

"Only if you tell me how you did it," he says and she smirks.

"You're more Slytherin than you think, Brother mine."

"Don't get used to it," he growls. "I don't fancy rule breaking as much as you."

"See but, I only break the rules I don't like," she says innocently.

It's as they enter the castle that he remembers his father's gift in his pocket and he pulls it out, handing it to his sister. The box is wrapped in silver paper that shimmers in the morning light. Her grin widens when she sees it and he barely has time to hand it over before she snatches it from his hands.

"It's from Father," he tells her. "Came in the post yesterday."

He already knows what it is and yet his heart swells when she pulls it gently from the box to reveal their mother's pocket watch. It's tradition for witches and wizards to receive a pocket watch on their seventeenth birthday. Still the site of the Greengrass antique causes him slight discomfort.

"I didn't get you anything," he tells her and she shrugs.

"Who cares," she says, still eyeing the watch. "You can sit next to me during Herbology and we'll call that my birthday gift."

"Herbology was cancelled," he tells her and she looks passed the watch and at him with a crease between her brows.

"Cancelled for what? I was working on a project for exams."

"Another attack," he tells her and the joy is lost from her eyes.

"Professor Longbottom?" she asks and he is surprised by the fear in her eyes.

"No," he says, shaking his head. "A friend of his, Seamus Finnigan."

"Davy's dad?" she asks and it's the first time she uses the boy's name which surprises him as well. "What happened?"

"The same as what happened to the Seer woman, Ms. Patil," he says, pulling the Daily Prophet from his robe pocket. She glances down at the flashing picture that once again shows prominence for the infamous mark they both know too well. "Murder."

"What's the ministry doing about it?" she asks, suddenly invested in the paper more than her watch which she slips back into the box.

"What _can_ they do?" he says. "They're looking into it the best they can but it's not easy with the unease that's starting to spread. Parvati Patil could have been a singular case but now that Seamus Finnegan is dead, the ministry is scared about another uprising."

"Did Papa say anything?" she asks and he shakes his head.

"He doesn't like to talk about this sort of thing, you know that."

She nods. They both know their father's distaste for talking about the past, namely his involvement in dark magic. It makes for an awkward walk through the corridors as they try not to bring it up again. She sighs as she reads the story, getting a far off look that makes her look even more tired than she seems.

"Did you sleep?" he asks and she doesn't look up at him.

"Not well," she admits, contrary to what he expects she'll say. "I think my body is too used to this batch of potions."

"Shouldn't you write to Madame Herwyn? She'll make a new one for you," he suggests and she shakes her head.

"I can do it myself," she tells him. "I've been practicing with the potions. I just need to send for the ingredients."

"I can help," he offers and she allows him a half smile.

"Thanks," says Thea. "But I can do it. Professor Slughorn allows me to use the potion lab during free periods. It's not overly complicated, just time intensive. Something the Head Boy doesn't have much of these days now that he's gotten himself a girlfriend."

She's stubborn as always but she says it in a way that seems genuine so he lets her think she's won and drops the subject. It's the first time she's called Rose his girlfriend and the both of them chuckle awkwardly as she mentions it. They fall into a comfortable silence by the time they reach the staircases and she pulls off her jacket, revealing a grey t-shirt with "Slytherin Quidditch" written in green letters.

"Take it easy today," she tells him. "Big match tomorrow."

"Well, one of us has to get a win so we can send news home to Father," he teases and she nods with a grin. She's starting down the staircase that leads to the dungeons and while he waits for his own to stop shifting, he looks back. "Thea," he says and she pauses, looking up at him, eyebrows raised. "Happy Birthday."

* * *

 **THEA**

"Aren't we getting a little too old for this?"

"You take that back Albus Severus," she says, mouth full of whipped cream, the stem of a cherry between her fingertips.

"Look, Elara has bacon."

She waves her wand over the ice cream sundae and a piece of bacon flies from Elara's plate, splits itself into several small pieces and settles atop the ice cream. Albus frowns. Elara curses under her breath.

"That's not what I meant."

"Eat the sundae, Albus. It's a tradition."

"A tradition we started when we were eleven."

She gives him a sideways glance and he sighs, resigned as he lifts his spoon and buries it into the ice cream. He looks at her, eyes narrowed as he puts the spoonful into his mouth and pauses, wide-eyed. She nods.

"It tastes like…"

"I know."

"But it actually tastes like…"

"Bacon and eggs, I know. I got the hint and had chef make it special," she tells him and his frown is replaced by an amused grin.

"Is this my birthday gift? Because if it is, thank you," says Albus, barely audible as he shoves another spoonful in his mouth.

"Of course it's not. Sundaes are our birthday tradition, but this," she says, pulling a small envelope from her bookbag and sliding it towards him. "This should earn me some serious best friend points."

"I'll be the judge of that," he tells her, opening the envelope with his name looped elegantly over the front. She wipes a bit of bacon-flavoured chocolate from his nose. "Is this? Thea, is this the internship in Romania?"

"You said you wanted to go," she says, gauging the confused look on his face and she takes the letter from his hand when he doesn't say anything for several moments.

"What are you doing?"

"Well you clearly don't like it. It's not a big deal," she says and she can feel the heat flushing to her cheeks. He snatches it back.

"Are you barmy? I love it," he says, taking her hand and placing her fingers to his lips. "I thought they weren't accepting interns this year."

"Yes, well. You said I should use my name and see where it got me. So..." she says, letting her hand linger on his cheek.

"The Malfoy name? Or the Malfoy money?" he asks, his smile fading slightly and she pushes up at the corners of his lips with her fingers.

"More like a strongly worded letter from a passionate young witch," she tells him. "They said they'd be happy to have you."

"This is…" he starts and his grin is so stupid that she can't stop smiling herself. "Amazing. Even Uncle Charlie couldn't get me a spot until next year. I am going to need to read this letter you sent htem."

"Uh, no…" she says, looking away and back at her ice cream bowl, stabbing her fork into a piece of banana. "I don't think I could have you witnessing me at my low point."

"Did you beg?" he asks and she nods, cringing.

"Oh yes, a lot," she tells him and they both break out into fits of quiet laughter.

"Either way, thank you."

"Anything for you, darling," she tells him, kissing his cheek and he doesn't wipe off the stain she leaves behind. "Happy Birthday."

"Oh, I have something for you too," he says. "But it will have to be later."

"Oh?" she says, wiggling her eyebrows. "Are we finally taking our friendship to the next level?" He nudges her playfully, nearly choking on the stem of his cherry.

"No," he says. "But I do recall you saying this would be better than sex."

Her eyes widen.

There are approximately three things on Earth that Thea imagines to be better than sex. Winning a quidditch match against Gryffindor, the lemon pound cake her grandmother makes, and…

"The Prefect's bathroom?" she whispers but it comes out as a squeal.

"I have fourty-five minutes allotted to me to me tonight and they are all yours."

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

"Oh Christ, you're not going to break out into song are you?" he asks, looking around.

"Can't I be sentimental?" she asks and he shakes his head.

"It doesn't suit you."

"Fine. But I still love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

 **ROSE**

"Aren't they getting a little too old for that?"

Rose turns at Roxy's words to see Albus and Thea eating their traditional ice cream birthday sundaes and she shrugs. James and Bas both look as well, though neither seem particularly interested in commenting as they remain as silent as they'd been since they sat down.

"It's their thing," Rose says. "I think it's sweet."

Roxy scoffs as she bites into her toast, glancing over at James and Bas. Bas stares down at his newspaper, spinning the spoon in his tea absentmindedly whilst James stares across the room towards his brother.

"So are you two ever going to tell us why you're not speaking or...?" says Roxy, and both boys look up at one another before their eyes dart away. Bas scoffs.

"Ask James, he's the one who has lost his bloody mind," he says and James rolls his eyes as he attempts wipe coffee from his white shirt. Rose waves her wand and watches it disappear, leaving a pristine white shirt in its place. He thanks her with a nod.

"I haven't lost my mind," he mutters, ruffling his hair slightly.

"He has his wand in a knot because he thinks I fucked Thea Malfoy," Bas says and James makes a face. Rose's eyes jump from the page of her book up to Bas and she hates that she feels something twinge in the pit of her stomach.

"Well, did you?" Roxy asks, her cup pause below her lips, eyes wide.

"No," Bas says, as if it's the hundredth time he's had to say it. "We were _just_ talking."

"It didn't look like just talking, was all I said," James says, his grumbling muffled behind his own mug. "And it's not like I'd care if you did, I was just asking."

"You do care, otherwise you wouldn't have looked so miffed when you brought it up."

"I just don't understand why you'd want to, that's all."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Rose mutters under her breath and both James and Bas pause their arguing to look at her. "You two sound like children. Both of you carrying on like this while your best friend has been called home. Have you even checked in on him?" They both look away, unable to make eye contact. "Davy's father is dead, and the two of you are more concerned with why anyone would want to have sex with Thea Malfoy, which by the way is a crude topic of conversation."

"That's not true, Rosie," Bas says, referring to Davy. She used to love the way his accent with burr over the "r" in her name but now she hates it.

"I asked Davy if he wanted me to go with him," James said. "But he wants to be alone. I don't know when he'll be back."

"I asked as well," says Bas, glancing up at James anxiously, then stares across the Great Hall where Albus and Thea laugh merrily. "Listen, mate…" he starts, glancing back at James. "I swear nothing happened. I'm sorry."

"No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I was an idiot. It doesn't even matter. I was drunk when I got upset. I don't even know why I asked," James replies and there is a slight relief of tension at the table.

The two chat on, forgetting Rose's presence as they both try and figure out how best to reach out to their friend who no one has heard from since the day before. Rose glances back down at her textbook though Roxy pleads for her to give it a rest.

"Rose," she hears and turns to see Scorpius standing over her, his blue eyes bright and she smiles at the sight of him despite the general tension returning at his presence. She snaps her book shut and turns her attention to him.

"Hello," she says but notices that his eyes aren't full of their usual sparkle and her smile fades. "Is something wrong?" she asks and he glances at the three pairs of eyes belonging to her friends before looking back at her.

"Could I speak to you for a moment, in private?" he asks her and she nods, gathering her school books and ignoring Roxy's cat-call as she follows him out of the Great Hall.

Scorpius leads her into one of the corridors nearest to Transfiguration and she catches the way his hand stiffens when she takes hold of it in her own. He doesn't pull back but she can see the conflicted look in his eyes as he looks down at it.

"What's wrong?" she asks, her stomach twitching slightly and he looks down at her shaking his head.

"I got a letter today in the post," he says. "From your father."

"What?" she asks, and his hand pulls back to his side. "What did he say?"

"He seems to think I'm bothering you," Scorpius tells her and she feels her brow crease. "He's heard plenty about the amount of time I spend 'hanging' around you but the only thing he doesn't seem to know is that we are together."

"Scorpius," she starts but pauses when she doesn't know how to finish.

"Do your parents even know about us?" he asks her, her eyes still focused at her now fidgeting fingers. When she glances up she thinks she will see disappointment but they're only full of hurt.

"I meant to tell them."

"You _meant_ to?" he asks, shaking his head. "I know there is bad blood between our families, Rose, but that was years ago."

"Does your dad know about us?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady but she can hear the shake in it.

"Yes," he tells her. "I don't share a lot with him, but I did tell him that much."

"Oh," she says and curses herself for the damned word.

"You said you weren't ashamed," he says softly and she can hear the ache in his voice as he looks away. "I can understand if you are but I'd prefer if you'd just be honest with me."

"I'm not ashamed," she insists. "I haven't said anything because my parents, they overreact about everything. I wanted to tell them, I did, but when I dated Sal they were impossible."

"What does that have to do with us?" he asks, his tone sharp and she shrugs because there is nothing she can say that sounds reasonable even to herself. "Merlin, do you even know how much I care about you?" he says, his eyes pained. "I am proud when I talk about you. Proud to tell people I'm with one of the most beautiful and smartest witches I've ever met."

She feels her face flush, heat rising as she hangs her head low in shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispers and he sighs.

"Me too, Rosie," he replies and walks away and she's desperate to go after him but knows Scorpius Malfoy well enough to know that he needs his space.

She's not even sure what she'd say if she did chase after him. He's not wrong. She was a coward not to tell her parents. But her father would have overreacted, even her mother has her own prejudices about the Malfoys since her time in school. But it isn't an excuse and Rose hates herself for not having enough spine just to tell them.

She thinks of her brother, of Roxy and James. She wonders which one of them mentioned that she and Scorpius had been spending time together. She assumes it was her brother, irritating as he sometimes can be. Roxy wouldn't want to spill the beans and James has been far too wrapped up in his own issues lately so she knows who is to blame. No, she reminds herself. She is to blame, not Hugo.

The bell tolls ahead and with Herbology cancelled she has a free period. She could use the time to study, she thinks but knows she can't concentrate now. She glances down, looking at the parchment in her bag.

She has to fix this, she tells herself. Studies be damned.

* * *

 **ALBUS**

He has a stupid grin on his face for the third time this week and he's in no hurry to hide it as he sits between Lysander and Thea.

The two have been arguing for the last hour about quidditch strategy, but Albus can hear the half-hearted attempts in Thea's sarcasm as she scoffs and he even catches Lysander smirk slightly when he retorts in kind.

Each are rooting for the opposite side, Lysander for Gryffindor, Thea for Ravenclaw. Both are certain the team they are backing will win and despite Albus' agreeance with Thea, he doesn't voice an opinion and pretends to be more interested in the game than he is with the two of them bantering.

Ravenclaw is winning by only a few scores and despite distance he can see the determination on his brother's features as he fights for the quaffle. James has been off lately, something strange in their quiet encounters in the corridors. He can't remember the last time he's seen him argue with Thea and neither one shows a passing interest in the other when they cross paths in classes.

He thinks about Davy and the news of his father's death and knows the news would have been tough for James. His older brother often spent weeks at the Finnigans during the summer holiday. But despite the tragedy and the stigma surrounding it, Albus has noticed something strange going on with his brother for weeks, long before the news about Davy's father.

"That was an obvious foul," Thea says, standing from her seat as she points to the spot of the tussle where Kalyn McLaggen has missed the bludger and hit Sedge directly in the face. Lysander shakes his head.

"Come on, that was obviously an accident," he tells her. "Beater is the toughest position on the pitch. I've never seen one of them leave a match without a few scrapes and bruises."

"Oh please, Beaters hide behind their bats while the chasers take the brunt of their bludgers. I have broken enough bones to prove that," she retorts and Albus snorts. "Meanwhile you two get to carry on around in the clouds finding your gold ball while the rest of us do the hard work."

"The hard work?!" Lysander says, this time his smirk falls. "You idiots can't quit the game until we find that 'gold ball', which - by the way - few of you can actually see."

"My point exactly," she says but immediately cheers when Scorpius, in helping his own keeper, makes a risky block, diving half off of his broomstick to stop an incoming quaffle from making it through the lower ring.

"Sorry, what exactly was your point?" Lysander asks and Thea seems to have completely forgotten the fight as her cheers join the other Ravenclaws' around them.

"Oh come on, Sandy. I'll agree with you that you two have to spend the most time squinting around for the snitch, but you'll have to agree too that all the real action is happening during the rest of the match. I bust my arse with bludgers flying around at my head and other chasers that try and shove me off my broom trying to get the quaffle in the rings which are guarded by a keeper. You, meanwhile, have one opponent."

Lysander sighs and Albus doesn't intervene although he could say a few things in his favor for being a seeker but the two have been at it for so long he assumes they've forgotten his presence entirely. It's not until Thea stands, watching intently as Lorcan thrusts his arm back, tossing a well placed quaffle directly passed Bas. She gives out an unapologetic " _whoop"_ and even Lysander greets her outstretched hand with a high-five at the great score by his twin.

She's cheering happily, blissfully unaware as Lysander leans over, nudging Albus and his lips curl at the ends.

"I like her," he whispers and Albus' grin widens.

"You do?" Albus asks and Lysander nods.

He leans in, placing his lips against Lysander's for a moment and finds that his mouth is much warmer than his own. Lysander's smile widens against Albus' and he's pulled closer, their scarves contrasting green against yellow.

The sound of shouting, groans mixed with cheers, interrupts the tender moment and both stand to their feet when they seen Scorpius and Roxy flying skyward, zigging and zagging for the snitch. Roxy's agility seems to outpace Scorpius but the Ravenclaw's experience and strength win out in the end as he wedges himself between her and the snitch, grasping it tightly in his gloved hand and Thea's erupts into a rare elation as the game ends with Ravenclaw victorious.

Lysander is unable to feign disappointment for long as his brother flies by with the other members of the team as they take a victory lap and Scorpius shakes the snitch with a broad smile on his hard features.

"See?" Lysander says with a wink in Thea's direction. "Even you're cheering for the seeker."

"Only this once, Scamander," she teases.

It's the perfect day, Albus realizes as he holds Lysander's hand in his left and Thea's in his right. Together, the three of them grin from ear-to-ear and Albus realizes he has never been happier. 

* * *

**JAMES**

It's James' final year and third year as captain of the Gryffindor house team and he feels as though it's all slipping between his fingers.

He's pacing the corridors after hours, uncertain of where he's going as he does. He's not a Prefect anymore, but it doesn't stop him from escaping the Common Room where the atmosphere is less than welcoming. They're taking the loss hard, especially Roxy who nearly had the snitch there at the end.

It wouldn't have mattered, he thinks, though maybe a win could have lifted his spirits slightly. They needed the win. Davy's presence was sorely missed and a win would have been something good to write to him instead of more uncomfortable letters of condolences that he was likely sick of hearing.

Instead, they lost and James could feel his final year at Hogwarts slipping further and further away from his grasp. He clutches his notebook, his fingers bending it into a cylinder under his persistent grip, and is hopeful for a place he can be alone with his thoughts. He isn't sure why he ends up in the dungeons but as he nears the potions classroom, the candlelight beaming through the room, he thinks he can stop in and distract himself with a bit of overdue coursework.

He isn't pleased to find it occupied by Thea Malfoy.

He pauses at the door, seething as he watches her stirring diligently at the cauldron and she frowns down at the steaming liquid beneath her. The sleeves of his crimson jumper fall down over her elbows and she grumbles as she pushes them up as if it's not the first time. When she spells the spoon to stir in counter-clockwise motion, she continues onto the chopping of something root-like.

She's focused on her work, not noticing James as he leans against the doorway. He remembers the party in the dungeons a few days prior and thinks, perhaps, she does notice him but let's him think she doesn't as she had in the Slytherin Common Room. Either way, he doesn't feel particularly interested in interrupting whatever she's working on and so he turns to leave.

As he does, he runs into Professor Slughorn and they both let out a startled shout.

"Merlin's Beard, Mr. Potter. You gave me a fright!" Slughorn says with a hearty chuckle. Neither escape Thea's attention at the outburst and he sees her jump slightly at the commotion.

"Sorry Professor," he says, feeling his heart jumping out of his chest. "I, I was just leaving."

"Ah," he says. "I see. Perhaps for the best," the man says, his contemplative brow hanging high.

"Not on my account, I hope," he hears from the lab and both and and Slughorn glance back in towards where Thea lazily twirls her wand at a vial that spills itself over into the cauldron. A small purple cloud appears, twisting its way out and she wafts at it lightly. At no point does she look up.

"Theodora I agreed to allow you the extra time without supervision but I am not sure the two of you can be-"

"Sir," she says, looking up. "Potter and I have no reason to argue. If he needs the extra lab time, I am willing to share the space."

James is surprised at her words and Slughorn too has his eyes wide in shock though she does not avert her eyes from the purple smoke to take in either of their perplexed expressions and carries on as if neither one is there. With another flick of her wand, the smoke dissipates, falling into the cauldron in liquid form.

"Well, I suppose...for the sake of academics," Slughorn stammers and she finally looks up and nods. "Alright, well, the same rules apply as in class. Theodora, you'll lock up when you're finished?"

"Of course," she says quietly, nodding once before charming her book to float up at eye level.

"Alright," the man says, gathering a few books from his desk and stuffing a scroll into his robes. "Goodnight to the both of you. Please be sure to put all the instruments away when you're through."

"Yes, Professor," they both reply in unison and Thea glances up from under her long lashes to meet his gaze for a brief moment before returning to her potion.

James doesn't move until their alone, the door closes behind the man and there is a stiff quietness about the air aside from the cracking of the flame beneath the simmering liquid across the room. For a moment he wonders how she manages to continue on so intently when he notices her eyes are no longer moving across the page. He doesn't point this out, however, as he seats himself a few desks to her left and opens his notebook in front of him.

"Are you not brewing?" she asks, her mouth curved downwards into what James reluctantly decides is a pretty frown. He bites his cheek as he scribbles into his notebook, not sure what he's even writing.

"No," he tells her and she raises her eyebrows at his answer.

"No?" she asks. "Why bother being here then?"

"I was looking for somewhere to think," he admits, not sure why he does so and she lets out a small amused breath.

"And you thought you'd find sitting in here while I brew…" she pauses, looking up from her potion and whatever she had planned to say falls away into observant silence.

He waits, hoping she doesn't expect him to fill the vacancy left by whatever feeble joke she had planned but neither speaks and eventually he glances over and she's attempting once again to read the same page she'd been staring at a few minutes prior.

Her fingers are busy, tracing over the pattern on her wand. He's never noticed the fair wood or the intricate carvings that spill out into a loose winding spiral. It suits her, unique and elegant. James looks down at his own wand but there is very little to look at. His wand is slightly longer, dark contrasting yew. It's simple, plain with little design other than the base which curves into a thin hourglass towards the end.

"I wanted to ask," she says, her words slow at first, her fingers still grazing over the wood's frame. "How is Davy?"

He is startled by the question, uncertain how to rise to a level-headed Thea Malfoy in a conversation that drips with more concern than sarcasm.

"As well as can can be expected, I guess," he says with a shrug, placing his quill down on the table. She nods.

"I would have sent condolences but I always find that no one really wants to read them. I am sure he would prefer it if he could just shut the world out for a while and forget this has even happened."

James realizes, as she speaks, that he agrees with her words, having found his own letters to his best friend seeming sterile and cold. He doesn't know how to apologize for someone's father dying. He doesn't know what to say because he doesn't know, thankfully, what it's like to lose someone. But she does, he remembers, watching her chew the inside of her cheek thoughtfully and she no longer pretends the read the book floating in front of her as she fights her eyes from meeting James'.

"I'm not sure what to say to him," he admits and she nods lightly. "I guess that makes me a shit friend."

"Merely human," she answers quietly. "Or as human as a wizard can be."

He forces a chuckle. She forces a half smile.

"He has you and Sebastian," she adds and his half-hearted smile fades away, remembering his tension with Bas for the last few days. He hates that all he can see is Bas' smile and Thea's laughter and their bodies pressed against each other in the dimly lit corner of the dungeons. "Though I'm sure once he hears about how shit you all were today, he'll be back to school in no time."

James' head snaps up.

"Wait, what?" he asks quickly, unsure if he's heard her properly but her uneasy fidgeting has turned into lazy swirling of her potion and a familiar smirk on the edge of her lips. "We were _not_ 'shit' today," he replies, feeling his previous irritation, the image of her and Bas, pushing through his own uncertainty.

"It's understandable, the team was all out of sorts. I get it," she answers, grabbing the paring knife and slicing a few very thin pieces of the indigo root.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he questions. "Out of sorts?"

"Well the team was dealing with unfortunate events. But even so, there's been an unbalance for weeks. I saw your last several practices and despite Davy's absence, you're still lacking the proper talent in the left flanks of your chasers, which makes it weak."

He closes the notebook, or he tries to only to find the tightly wound book refusing to sit properly as it curves outward.

"The left flank is _not_ weak," he says, his voice growing louder and she looks up in surprise.

"Ok, grumpy," she says, holding her hands up. "I'm only telling you what I see."

"Well, they're not weak," he repeats, quieter this time. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Of course you are," she says, rolling her eyes. "You lost a match. Do you think I was seeing rainbows and spouting sunshine after I lost to Hufflepuff? After my best match ever?"

He doesn't reply because he'd have to admit that Thea's match against Hufflepuff was indeed impressive. As a fellow chaser, he can't help but be envious of her speed. Her agility has managed to outmaneuver him two years in a row and the showing against Hufflepuff only makes his hands twitch over the edge of the notebook cover.

"I'm not," he says again and she sighs.

"Fine, you're not grumpy. But you're clearly out of sorts," she says and he doesn't answer right away as she reaches into her bag and places the item she's found on the counter. She uses two fingers to gently slide it in his direction. "Have some and relax for a change."

He stares at it, the silver flask engraved with her initials and frowns.

"What is it?" he asks and she raises an eyebrow.

"Don't trust me?" she asks and he lets out a real laugh.

"No," he says. "I don't, as a matter of fact."

"It's whiskey," she says boredly. "It'll take the edge off."

"I don't have an edge," he says quickly.

"Sure," she draws out.

"You know what?" he says, standing and taking the flask, raising it in faux toast. "Fine."

He pulls the flask to his lips, pausing only a moment before allowing the liquid to rush down his throat and he nearly coughs at the burn, followed swiftly by the smoked honey flavor. Scotch, his mind hums as the flavor takes hold and she snatches it quickly when he goes to take a second sip.

"I said take the edge off, not drink all of it," she says, bringing it to her lips and tilting it back for a swig of her own.

"So is this what you do on Saturday nights?" he asks, leaning back on the table. "Do coursework and get drunk in the dungeons?"

"Should I take a page out of your book, then?" she asks, handing him back the flask. "Sulk around in denial and wishing I wasn't such an arsehole?"

The flask is paused at his bottom lip as he gives her a deep frown. Her pink lips curl up at the sides and she flicks her wand at her potion, the whole thing coming to an abrupt stop. James takes another swig and their met gaze never breaks.

"I'm not an arsehole," he contests and his tone is so childish that even he can't keep a straight face.

"Better you embrace it now," she tells him. "I spent my entire childhood in denial so it came as quite a shock to me when I came to Hogwarts and no one wanted to be my friend."

"Oh come off it," he teases, placing the flask in front of her and she toys with the edge as she glances up under her lashes. "You enjoy it far too much to care."

"Maybe," she says, contemplatively.

"Bas doesn't seem to mind," he says and there is a slight bitterness in his voice that she catches as she brings the flask to her lips.

"Sebastian and I merely see eye to eye," she says offhandedly but as her mouth curves at the corners he can't help but find it more annoying than endearing as he head before.

"What was in the herb you gave me the other night?" he asks abruptly, unable to carry on about Bas as bitter feelings turn sour. Her smile widens further.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asks, handing the flask back to him but he stares at it, letting the warmth of the liquor quell whatever is burning in his chest.

"No, actually," he admits and when she meets his eye he can see that she's confused.

"What?" she asks.

"I mean, it was terrible. I felt frustrated and annoyed all night after I smoked it."

"That can't be right," she says thoughtfully. "It's always worked before."

"Well if you were hoping to put me in a foul mood, then I think it did the trick," he says and she shakes her head.

"No," she says quietly. "It worked for the others. Davy couldn't keeps his hands off of Dahlia. And I'm fairly certain I saw Bas and Giselle hitting it off quite easily," she says with a fond smile. "He might actually stop pining after Dom for a change."

James frowns. Dom? He thinks. Of course Bas has had eyes for Dom but everyone knew, including Bas, that Dom was not interested in Bas or any other guy for that matter. But James racked his memory, trying to recall images of All Hallow's Eve and nothing came to mind when he thought of Bas and Giselle.

"It should have worked," she says. "I saw you two together."

"Who?" he asks.

"Torra, you dolt," she says, crease in her forehead. She reaches for the flask, gently, as he places it to his lips and when he doesn't let go immediately she looks up at him, puzzled. She's craning her neck and James steps forward slightly so that she cranes it further.

"Torra?" he whispers and she starts to nod.

Neither lets go of the flask.

"It's a herb I worked on in Majorca," she says, her fingers sliding over the metal object and as she pulls, he grips it harder so that she steps once again towards him. "It's supposed to, loosen inhibitions, in a way."

"How?" he asks, his voice low and her eyes fall down to the flask and she clears her throat.

"You and Torra looked cozy," she said. "I thought I'd help you out a bit. You both looked keen."

"Keen?" he asks with a quiet chuckle and she shrugs, still eying the flask or his hands, he's not sure.

"It was supposed to be fun."

"It wasn't," he told her.

"Well, I'm not sure why unless…" she starts but then her words trail off as her eyes move up slowly.

"Unless, what?" he asks, cocking his head slightly and waiting for her response but she shakes her head and she's the first to let go of the flask as she turns quickly and busies herself cleaning up ingredients.

He watches her movements from his place at the desk, leaning back slightly on one hand and her swift work is as lazy as it looked before but precise and methodical. She bottles the potion with one quick, wordless, spell and then empties disposable contents into a large container across the room with the gentle whisk of her hand. When she is finally left with the cauldron and several vials floating around her she leads it all into the store room in the back, directing it neatly on the shelves in near perfect unison.

James follows, carrying a container she'd left behind containing several more indigo roots he'd seen her carving up. She's still tidying when he walks in and finds the rooted plants section of the store room and glances around for the proper drawer before opening one. Before he can open it, however, her hand flies over his and halts it abruptly.

He glances down at her, where she's wedged her way between him and the numerous drawers of root plants.

"It's not Bitteroot," she says softly, guiding his hand away from the drawer and pushes it over to the left slightly.

"Nux Myristica?" he asks, glancing at the looped cursive on the label just above her pointing finger that lifts from his wrist. She nods. "I've never seen one this color," he says.

"It's a rare variety," she tells him. "Professor Longbottom experiments with its properties and is growing a hybrid of it in the greenhouses. This is the product of Nux Myristica bred with moondew."

"Moondew," he repeats softly, recalling their night in the forest collecting herbs as punishment and he remembers her in the same jumper with messier hair.

Now her hair sits neatly over her shoulder in a well manicured braid and she brushes a single loose hair behind her ear as she nods, removing her hand from his arm as she watches him place it gently in the proper drawer.

"Why didn't the herb work?" he asks her and she glances at the box again and he shakes his head. "Not the Nux," he says, his lips twitching at the corners.

"The Majorcan herb?" she asks and he nods.

She sighs, placing her hands on the counter behind her and she props herself up onto it with impressive ease for someone so small. He doesn't stop himself when he steps forward, closing the recently vacated gap. For the first time they are nearly eye to eye as she sits on her perch.

"It must have worked," she said. "It's never not worked before."

"Well I certainly didn't feel bliss and desire, if that's what it's supposed to do," he tells her and she narrows her eyes thoughtfully as she inspects his face.

"Are you sure?" she asks and he lets out a soft snort of laughter.

"Quite sure. Torra was pretty peeved with me when I wouldn't give her any attention later that night."

"Oh?" she asks. "And where was your attention?"

"I don't know," he lies and she watches his lips as he speaks the words and his eyes watch hers as they linger slightly.

He didn't laugh this time as he remembers and images flash again behind his eyes of Bas' hips pressed against Thea's and involuntarily he glances down to where her black school-issued pleated skirt rises just enough that he can see the top of her stockings above her knee. He remembers her fingers, black polished nails, tracing over the edge of Bas' tie and the dark stain of lipstick that lingered almost unnoticeably on Bas' ear.

"It's ok," she says with a smirk, her hazel eyes meeting his. "I've thought about it too."

Something stirs inside of him at her words but his head is dizzy in contemplation and scotch and though her words are warm he's certain he's imagining things. He eyes the jumper, the sleeves falling back down over her arms and he stops it just before it reaches the milky flesh of her wrist. He pushes it back up, slowly and he can feel everything inside of him screaming as he rests his hand there, wrapped around her elbow and leaning in.

"Thought about what?" he asks and even his words are a struggle as his head spins and he prays it's not his hands shaking as he steps closer.

"Don't pretend, Jamie," she whispers when their faces are inches apart. His eyes dance over her features, her eyes that search his, her fingertips that reach out hesitantly towards the hem of his sleeve, down to her legs that he's now standing between and he feels a breath escape his lungs. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it."

He's not pretending, he wants to argue. But he also doesn't know what this is pulsing through him as the liquor starts to take effect. Her fingertips graze the back of his wrist where they toy absently with his sleeve and his intoxication is not due to scotch, it's something else that he doesn't know how to define.

Something inside of him is tired of wondering. He remembers the Dark Forest, remembers the dim corner of the Slytherin Common Room where she whispered in his ear as if they haven't spent the last six years hating one another. Every moment and every encounter rushes forward from the back of his mind and he redefines the word. Hate, his mind whispers and he shakes his head. No, not hate, he realizes. The insides of her thighs meet his hips with just enough force that he realizes he's stepped forward again and this time he knows exactly what the word is.

Want.

The gap closes easily, too easily, and they're so close he's not sure which one of them has closed it as his lips crash against hers. His hand shakes from where it still encircles her arm, falling slightly around her lower wrist and her lips part in response to his touch, allowing him to deepen the kiss, their mouths moving together with equal fervor.

His left hand moves from the counter beside her to her waist and there is a sigh as she inches forward, her chest pressed against his. Her tongue is warm and sweet like the honey from the scotch they're both drunk off of and he groans when he feels her hips push against his. He feels the word rising in him again when her fingers inch around his shoulder and twist into his hair.

Want, his mind says again but this time he doesn't just hear the word, he feels it. He breathes it.

He can't hear the sounds of protest in the back of his mind, muffled by the desire burning through him as her other hand snakes around his waist and his hands slips down from to her thigh, the bare part of it above the silky black stocking that gives way to his wandering fingers. Her skin is soft, and her lips contort into a smile when a small strangled sound escapes from his throat. With one hand freed, she places it over his, steadying the shaking, and guides it slightly up until he can feel the hem of her lace knickers at his fingertips.

"So," she gasps as they both come away for air and he places his lips against her neck. "Does this mean you agree that the left flank is weak?" she asks him, breathes ragged, and he muffles her words with his mouth.

He pauses only to grumble, "Don't be insufferable."

He feels her smile and as he pulls her flush against him, he allows himself to smile as well.

x


	11. Chapter 11 - M

**WARNING: Chapter rated M for sexual situations.**

* * *

 **BURN  
**  
Chapter Eleven:

 _I Visited the Room of Requirement and All I Got Was a Broom Cupboard_

* * *

 **THEA**

She's late for class. She's so late, in fact, that if she keeps at this, she will be late for her second class as well. She certainly shouldn't be wasting the morning in a broom cupboard, lips attached to James Potter, but she's drunk on the taste of his mouth and she can't tear herself away despite the screaming in her head.

What happened in the potions storeroom was meant to be a fluke, but she couldn't exactly blame it on the whiskey when the words slipped from her tongue. He'd been looking at her for weeks with different eyes and every time he did, something stirred inside of her. She could have hexed herself for saying it outloud but once it was said, the same truth was in his eyes as well.

Her pleats are wrinkled slightly, the skirt hiked up to her waist, but she doesn't mind as she wraps her legs around his hips and she hears him make that sound again, that sound that causes things to stir inside of her. She smiles against his mouth, shifting slightly from where she's sitting. He has to crane his neck to look up at her, shaking his head in amused frustration, and he grips her tightly so her movements stop.

"Stop that," he says, his words half gasp, half laugh and she feels her grin widen as she rolls her hips into his. "I'm serious."

"Why?" she asks him, her lips next to his ear, knowing very well why not, feeling the 'why' in question pressed against her thigh. "You don't sound serious."

"Well I am," he says, trying not to smile but the corners of his mouth twitch. "I have to get to class. I've already missed the first one."

"Well I'm not stopping you," she tells him, leaning back into the small wall and she nearly hits her head. She looks around the small cupboard on the seventh floor and she's fairly certain she's never seen one here before. "Has this room always been here?" she asks and he shrugs, trying to regain his composure but as the moments pass, he gives up and leans in, kissing the flesh of her neck.

"Dunno," he says, his words muffled slightly by her skin where he presses his lips and she sighs when she feels his warm hands slide over her thighs.

"Well how'd we end up here in the first place?" she asks, her voice strained slightly. "I've been up here loads of times and never noticed a broom cupboard in this corridor."

"Are you taking inventory of all Hogwarts broom cupboards, then?" he asks, his lips moving from her neck up to her jaw until she is the one leaning into him, her lips pressed into his and she slides her hands over his shoulders.

"I just…" she starts to say but is too distracted to finish her sentence as she feels one of her stockings slide down below her knee.

"Christ," he swears, muttered between his teeth as he fights something primal and the sound of it makes her ache to be much closer than they currently are.

"You know there is a way to fix that, right?" she says, pointing downward with her eyes and he chuckles into her shoulder.

"Please don't tempt me," he says like a man tortured. "If I'm late for my Transfiguration exam, McGonagall will murder me."

"I told you I wasn't stopping you," she reminds him, pulling her hands back and holding them up in surrender.

"Yes, but that...," he points just as she had. "...is. And I don't think we have time for your way of fixing things."

"But you have to admit it would be more fun," she says, pulling her stocking back up over her knee and halfway up her thigh. His eyes watch her every movement and his amused grin falls.

"That's not exactly helping."

"Well then, imagine it's McGonagall doing it," she teases and he cringes at the thought she's now placed in his head. "Seriously though, I really don't think this cupboard was here before. I remember that portrait out in the hall and there was never a door across from it."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," he says, pulling something out of his back pocket and handing it to her.

The parchment is folded up but as she opens it, she can see several mazes of drawings with little figures moving around. As she eyes it closer, she sees the figures are footprints and above them are names in neat writing.

"What in Dumbledore's name…" she says slowly and he unfolds it several layers deep to reveal the seventh floor corridor they are currently standing in. "This is Hogwarts?" she asks and he nods. "But...is this everyone?" she adds and he nods again. "But if this is the seventh floor, then where are we?"

"Here," he points but his finger presses against a blank space where a wall is. The same wall she remembers across from the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. She looks up at him, her eyebrow raised. "You don't see us because this is the Room of Requirement. It doesn't show up on the map. It's a secret room."

"Room of...Requirement?" she asks. "What does one require from an invisible broom cupboard?"

"It's not...oh Merlin help me…and I thought you were supposed to be brilliant," he mutters. "Just watch," he says, closing his eyes and she is ready to roll her eyes at his strange behavior when a glass of water appears next to him and he holds out his hand to grab it.

"Wow," she says, impressed and James grins as he downs the cold water. His bulge is still visible under the layer of his black slacks but she's more concerned with the mystery of this cupboard. "So you can make anything appear?"

"Well, theoretically the room could be anything. If I needed a place to hide contraband, for example," he says, his eyebrows wiggling and she feels her smile fall slightly as she narrows his eyes.

"So you're telling me, you found a magical room that could be transformed into relatively anything?" she asks and he nods. "And all I got was a broom cupboard?"

His smile falls.

"Well, I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't," she says boredly, hopping down from the ledge and she adjusts her skirt so it falls over her stockings. She waves her wand to remove the wrinkles. "I should probably get to class," she adds. "Good luck with that," she tells him, pointing down at the bulge in his pants.

"But…." he starts but she never hears the rest of it as she walks through the door, closing it behind her.

She doesn't hide the smirk on her lips as she struts down the corridors. She only sees a stray student, here and there, as she descends the stairs. It's a slow battle, waiting for them to reorganize themselves so she can take the correct stairwell. She swears one is taunting her as she waits for it to whip back around.

She's tapping her foot, waiting, when she hears footsteps behind her. She turns, noticing James tucking in his wrinkled shirt and jumper and she tries not to look amused at his disheveled hair.

"You slammed the door in my face," he says, fidgeting with his tie and Thea's toes still tap on the stone floors as she waits.

"It was for dramatic effect," she tells him with a shrug and he scoffs.

"Is everything you do for dramatic effect?" he asks her, stepping closer and she can feel something beneath her skin dance at his nearness.

"You may be content to live in your dull existence, which is quite clear from your lack of imagination in that Room of Requirement you have," she says and he shushes at her though next to no one is nearby. "I, however, prefer a life of excitement."

"Is that what this is?" he asks, his eyebrow raised and she leans against the arm rail, crossing her arms over her chest and glances at him up and down. "You and me, dramatic effect?"

"No," she says finally, hearing the staircase slide into place. "You and I, Jamie. That's a mistake. It should have never happened."

He looks surprised at her answer and she starts towards the staircase but her steps pause at his words.

"Which time?" he asks, his own arms crossing over his chest and she shrugs again, trying to remain the nonchalant one though both of them are dancing around something foreign. Something neither wants to admit and so she rolls her eyes.

"All of them," she says quickly. "I can't deny it was fun, and maybe it was good to relieve a little bit of that tension between us, I was growing a bit bored of it all anyways, the fighting. But this," she says, motioning between them. "This can't happen again."

"Oh?" he asks, an annoying smirk on his arrogant lips. "Why is that?"

"Because we hate each other?"

"Do we?"

"Yes," she says. "We do."

"I don't know," he says, watching her mouth and as he steps closer she fights the urge to place her hands on him. "What's been going on for the last few weeks, what was just going on in that…."

"Broom cupboard?" she supplied and he frowned.

"I am not in the habit of shagging girls I hate," he tells her.

"Just guys then?" she asks with a shrug, turning to step out onto the staircase and he grabs her abruptly around the waist. She glances down, realizing she's almost stepped out onto nothing, that the staircase has moved again, stranding her there on that ledge with James Potter and his blasted questions.

"Funny," he says, but she's already forgotten the joke as he's pulling her back on her feet and she steadies herself, forcing a laugh for good measure.

"You're Albus' brother," she says finally, her smile falling and it takes him far too long to let go of her despite the fact that she's already found her balance. She brushes his hands away gently and he clears his throat as he brings them hands back to his side. "This, is a bad idea because maybe is fun, and maybe we just fuck in a broom cupboard and you whisper sexy things in the dark, but when it comes down to it, Albus is my best mate, and I don't like keeping secrets from him. Especially not about having a shag with his brother."

He doesn't look upset by her words and so she turns again, this time finding the staircase flush with the landing and she starts down them, not looking back as she does.

"But he'd be fine with our sister?" he says after her and she glances over her shoulder with a smirk.

"I've always wanted to have a go with a ginger," she replies mischievously and he frowns at her insinuation. "Goodbye, Jamie. Don't be late for class."

She catches his unreserved hand gesture before turning her attention back to the steps of the staircase and she laughs to herself at his reaction. She glances back up only once as she rounds another staircase and she reminds herself it doesn't matter when she notices he's no longer there.

* * *

 **ROSE**

Care of Magical Creatures class ends with Bev Whitby nearly getting her hand bitten off by an adolescent Hippogriff. Professor Hagrid dismisses the class immediately after, sending a distraught Bev back up to the castle while Albus, Lysander, and Rose help clean up.

Lysander and Albus are still laughing about the incident, knowing Bev's personality is too distracting for a young hippogriff who would prefer _he_ was the most beautiful creature in the stable. After pulling at Bev's long hair, she'd started screaming, only making things worse.

Even Rose had to smother a chuckle behind her robes as Bev was knocked to the ground, shrieking like a child as Dom tried desperately to calm the poor animal who took offense to Bev's beauty.

Rose is just finishing up, raking up piles of dishevelled hay, when she glances up to see Lysander smooth a hair out of Albus' eyes. His fingers linger on Albus' cheek and Rose feels her heart ache slightly at the memory of Scorpius' touch.

They've been in this, whatever this was, for weeks and despite her attempts to reconcile, she saw his Malfoy stubbornness in his features every time he looked like he might apologise. But he shouldn't apologise, she remembers. She should, and she should tell him that she's sent a letter to her parents; what she's said, what she's told them about their relationship, if there even is one anymore.

But she doesn't because she is a coward and is scared of that same look in his eyes that he gave her outside the Great Hall weeks prior.

"Hello, Rose," says a masculine pur from behind her and she turns to see Salomon standing there, holding his books in one hand as he leans against the stable walls. "Why so blue?" he asks her and she realizes she's been lost in thought so she shakes her head, plastering on a smile.

"I'm fine, actually," she says, continuing to rake, despite having little left to rake up at all.

"Oh," he says, shifting. "I just figured, hoped really, that you might be done pining after Scorpius now that he's stopped showing interest in you. But you still look as put out as usual."

"Sal," she says. It comes out as a more of a groan and she doesn't bother to look up at him where he's watching her.

"What? I'm just saying is maybe it's for the best."

"You don't even know what you're talking about," she tells him, her head jerking up and she meets his eyes.

"Don't tell me you still like the guy, Rosie?" he says, shaking his head. "He's not good enough for you."

"And you are?" she asks, her brows nearly meeting as she frowns. "I no longer have to explain my personal life to you."

Sal watches her for many moments before pushing off of the wall and walking slowly towards her. Rose's frown is cemented to her lips as he takes hold of her upper arm gently and shakes his head down at her as if he's scolding a child.

"You know people are starting to talk about them, about the Malfoys. All these incidents happening...murder...it ties back to dark magic. The Malfoys aren't the sort of people you should get caught up with," he whispers. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

She can feel her teeth clench down and she stares down at his hand around her arm.

"Stop spreading lies, Salomon. Scorpius and his family are good people." she says, pulling her arm from his grasp. "And don't put your hands on me again."

"Fine," he says, holding his hands up, his books clenched under his fingers. "But when that prick hurts you, don't forget I tried to warn you."

"Goodbye," she says without looking up, raking away and hay that barely litters the ground now and she doesn't stop until she hears him leave.

She sighs heavily as she grabs the rake and places it back on the wall. She sees, from the window, that Albus and Lysander are done as well and are already hand in hand walking up the hill towards the castle. She turns, thinking she can join them if she hurries, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she sees a Scorpius leaning against the doorframe with her bookbag in hand.

"Hey," he says softly, his eyes blue eyes meeting his and she feels her heart skip.

Brushing her hair behind her ear she says, "Hey, back."

"Mind if I walk with you?" he asks and she is quick to nod, so quick that she feels a bit embarrassed at her desperation but he gives her a small smile as he pushes off from the doorframe and starts walking at her side, her bookbag in hand.

"I was going to come find you before supper," she says, glancing down at her fingers as they wring together. "I had something to talk to you about."

He must not like the last few words because his serene smile suddenly falls and his eyes dart to her quickly.

"I wrote to my mum and dad," she says quickly, trying to erase the look of terror in his eyes. They only soften slightly. "Mum was polite enough about it, told me not to expect my dad to write back any time soon because he was too busy fuming. But she says it will be fine and he'll get over it eventually. _It_ of course being that we're dating."

He nods, his eyes searching ahead as they walk and she reaches out slightly, letting her fingers graze his until he glances down too.

"And here I had just made up my mind that it didn't matter what they said, or if they knew, so long as I could be with you," he said, taking her hand in his. Her heart leapt as he did. "I heard what Sal said to you," he told her. "And I saw the way he touched you and I just...I wanted to hex him there and then."

She chuckled at his response. "Did you hear what I said to him?" she asked and his steps slowed them into a pause and he turned to look at her, pulling her bookbag over his shoulder and he took her hand, placing it to his lips before he spoke again.

"I did," he whispers. "And I am so sorry for being such an idiot before."

"You weren't," she interrupted quickly. "You were right. I was scared of my dad's reaction so I didn't tell him. And I'm sorry for making you feel like I was ashamed of you. I could never be ashamed of you."

"I know," he says, pulling her closer and his lips graze her hair. Her eyes close as his lips move to her forehead and down to her cheeks. Finally they meet her lips.

The wind is rushing around them, autumn leaves that have faded to brown dance as he holds her to him, their lips parted as he kisses her. Her hands move over his shoulders and she can taste joy on his mouth, pure joy and the elation rushing through her is starting to feel like something else.

Something akin to, love.

Her heart races at this revelation and when she pulls back she sees one of Scorpius' smiles plastered on his handsome features and she feels the heat rise to her cheeks in response. Together they walk, hands tangled together, making their way back up towards the castle.

Roxy is waiting for her at the top of the hill, her scarlet and gold scarf blowing in the wind.

"There you _are_ ," she says. "I thought you'd finished ages ago."

"I was helping to clean up," Rose reminds her and Roxy glances down at their hands with a smirk. "I thought you had Quidditch practice?"

"Slytherin's knicked the pitch. Practicing for the big game tomorrow," Roxy replies, looking up at Scorpius. "Which is fine because James has been running us ragged since we lost to you lot. I'm counting on you to kick those Slytherin arses as well."

Scorpius laughs, shifting slightly and Rose smiles at the interaction between the two.

"I can tell you I don't plan on allowing my sister to win despite her incessant declarations that she will," he says.

"That's right," Rose says then. "The Malfoy Showdown. Doesn't your father normally come to school for the match?"

He nods, running his hands through his flaxen hair and Rose watches every tendril fall delicately into place.

"I was, uh, well I was hoping to introduce you, officially and all," he says and Rose feels her nerves growing.

"Oh," she tells him. "Are you sure he wants to meet me?"

Scorpius laughs. "He won't stop going on about it, actually. If I don't introduce you tomorrow, he'll probably find a way to introduce himself and embarrass me while he's at it."

She's surprised by his smile, the way he talks about his father with a lightness in his voice. It's different than the last time they spoke about him, the time she saw the pain in his eyes at the very mention of him. She warms at the sight of the joy in the upturned corners of his lips.

"Anyways, I had hoped to steal you away for a little bit of gossip? Care to join me for a walk around down by the lake?" Roxy asks.

"I-" Rose begins, looking up at Scorpius.

"Go," he insists, nodding his head. "I'll find you at supper."

"You're as charming as ever, Scorpius," Roxy replies with a wink and then links her arm through Rose's.

Scorpius' touch lingers slightly when they both reach out as she steps away, not letting their hands fall until they are no longer able to reach and Roxy makes a gagging noise.

"You two are so adorable, it's honestly disgusting," she teases and Rose looks over her shoulder where Scorpius walks in the opposite direction.

"What is your gossip that was so important anyways?" Rose asks. "We'd just made up."

"I know, and I'm happy that the moping will finally come to an end, but this was too...I have no words."

"There's a first for everything, I expect," Rose mutters and Roxy rolls her eyes.

"I saw the _strangest_ thing earlier in the corridors," Roxy says. "I was on my way back to Charms from the loo, and I was waiting for the bloody staircases to swap on the fifth floor and you know how Malfoy never showed for class?"

"I guess I hadn't noticed," Rose says, contemplating whether or not she remembered seeing the girl in class and Roxy shakes her head.

"She wasn't there, Albus made up some terrible excuse for her," says Roxy. "Anyways, so I'm standing there, waiting for the staircase to come back round and there she was, standing up on the seventh floor ledge, waiting as well."

"So? She skipped class?" Rose asks and Roxy looks around before lowering her voice.

"Only she wasn't alone. James showed up, and...Christ, Rosie, you should have seen them. It was, I don't know. They were…"

"They were, what?" Rose asks, her brow furrowing at Roxy's strange excitement.

"I'm not sure. I thought, at first, that they were arguing but James didn't look upset and then she nearly stepped off the ledge, not paying attention and he pulled her back. Only, he didn't exactly look in a hurry to take his hands off of her afterwards if you know what I mean?"

"No," Rose says, shaking her head. "I don't know what you mean. Maybe Thea and James have been arguing less lately, sure, but if you're insinuating that there is something going on between them-"

"You didn't see the way they were looking at each other. Something is different. Not to mention when I saw him, he looked like he'd just had a long snog with someone. Shirt untucked, hair a mess."

"You're describing James' usual appearance," Rose says, narrowing her eyes and Roxy laughs.

"I think I know sex hair when I see it," Roxy says, grabbing a stick of gum from her robes and plopping it into her mouth.

Rose shakes her head but she has noticed the lack of arguing lately. Herbology, Potions, and even Muggle Studies have been undeniably quiet and she can't remember the last time Thea spoke out of turn in class. But she can't picture it, Thea and James. That much animosity doesn't seem possible to overcome.

"You had to be seeing things. James and Thea may hate each other but he wouldn't just let her fall off of a ledge. And you've seen the way she is with him, she likes to tease him into a fight. She has that way about her. You know..."

"Sexy little imp?" Roxy supplies and Rose nods.

"Exactly. I'm sure she was just doing that whole thing again and James was playing right into it."

Roxy sighs, chewing her gum and adjusting her bookbag as it starts to slide off of her shoulder.

"Just, pay attention the next time you see them together. I'm telling you, I know what I saw."

"I can't believe you dragged me down here for this," Rose says, laughing.

"You'll see, Rosie. You'll see."

Rose replies with a snort.

* * *

 **ALBUS**

The brisk evening air is sharp against his face as he races down to the pitch on his broom. He's late by at least twenty minutes and Alec is going to lay into him the moment he arrives. He can spot them, running drills on the field only he doesn't spot Thea amongst the chasers and he frowns, glancing down at the entrance to the locker rooms.

Alec spots him as he tries to slink down towards the door.

"You're late, Potter!" he shouts, blocking a well placed throw of the quaffle and tosses it back out. "And where the bloody hell is Thea?"

"I'm sure she's around," Albus shouts back and Alec shakes his head.

"She's been in the bloody locker room since half past. Find her and tell her to get her arse out here already. And you're both doing laps after practice."

Albus only nods, descending back to the ground and opening the door to the locker rooms where he sees Thea, lying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and he frowns.

"What are you doing?" he asks and she doesn't move her eyes from where they're glued and so he steps closer. "Did you hear Alec? He seems in a grand mood," he jokes but there still isn't a reaction. "Did you hear me?" he asks, standing over her and waving his hand and she finally meets his eyes, her head moving and she frowns.

"Sorry, what was that?" she asks, her voice hoarse and he narrows his eyes, tilting his head as he watches her slow movements.

"Are you high on something?" he asks and her brow furrows.

"High? Before Quidditch? Are you mad?"

"Well why the hell do you look so out of it. Are you alright?"

"What? I'm fine," she says, her tone cold as she sits up and adjusts her gloves.

"Does this have something to do with why you missed class earlier?" he asks her and she shakes her head.

"Al, I'm fine. I'm just tired I guess. It's probably just winter solstice. You know how things get," she tells him and while he knows this to be true, the position of the moon affecting her sleeping patterns, it still doesn't explain why she was missing earlier from class.

"I had to cover for you, by the way. You never showed up for Charms and Professor Flitwick could tell I was lying."

"Get better at lying, then," she says, shrugging as she takes her broom from the ground and starts towards the door.

"Hey," he says, his frown deepening. "What's going on with you? Where were you this morning?"

She spins around, her hair pulled into a messy bun atop her head and he can see the dark circles creased under her eyes.

"Thea," he whispers, grabbing her hand and she shakes her head lightly, her features softening.

"I-" she says, taking a deep breath. "Shit, I'm sorry. I don't know why I snapped."

"Seriously, T. Are you feeling alright?"

"No," she admits. "I haven't been sleeping again. My potions aren't helping. I've been trying to adjust the concentration but it's just having the opposite effect. I think I fell asleep in the library during Charms."

"Why didn't you tell me things were getting bad."

"I didn't want to worry you," she says, looking away from his gaze and he can see something is still bothering her but he doesn't press. He just pulls her towards him, into a hug. She folds into the side of him, her head nuzzling his shoulder until she finds a place near his collarbone.

"Should we get on with it then?" he asks her and she eyes his neck curiously as she pulls away.

"Is that, a hickey Mr. Potter?" she asks, her previously soured frown folding into a grin.

His hand snaps up to cover his neck but her eyes are wide as she lets out a laugh.

"Shit," he mutters. "I tried spelling it, but it must have worn off."

"You shouldn't use a glamor spell for hickey's, Albus. Haven't I taught you anything?" she teases, pulling her wand out of her bag. "Healing spells for bruises and hickies."

"Yes well, I was in a bit of a rush."

"So it would seem," she says with a smirk, looking up from under her lashes as she whispers a healing spell at the area and he feels it tingle slightly, followed by a warm sensation. She looks generally pleased when her wand drops. "There, good as new. Though I'm sure Sandy can replace it later."

"Enough from you," he says with a chuckle, shoving her gently towards the door and they arrive out on the pitch, the sunlight dwindling with every passing moment.

"The two of deciding to grace us with your presence?" Alec says from above them and Albus glances at Thea who flashes their captain her best smile despite the circles under her eyes.

"Don't get your wand in a knot, Zabini. Frankly, the team could use a little practice instead of depending on me all the time," she says and Alec's eyes dance with fire as he shakes his head.

"Get up there, already," he tells her. "And you, Albus, should be working on speed drills. Scorpius is faster than ever this year."

"Yes, sir!" Albus says, with a mock salute and Alec flies away to the sound of Albus and Thea's laughter.

Practice goes into the night, Madame Spinnet joining the pitch with her book to supervise the after-hours practice. She's sitting in the stands, watching them instead of her usual reading, as Thea zooms around the pitch collecting well aimed passes and dodging even better aimed bludgers. As the sky grows dark, Albus has more difficulty finding the snitch so he is then relegated to more speed and agility drills with the team alternate, Nancy.

She's slow, but she's only a second year and she won't be playing seeker when she finally makes the team. But she's a good sport, and she puts up with Albus' unorthodox methods as he attempts a few new moves that he's seen in James' playbook.

By the end of practice, he and Thea are sent on laps around the pitch, on foot.

It's freezing, and they are both sprinting as fast as they can to keep warm. Thea is slower than usual, but he equates it to her fatigue and the solstice because he knows on a regular day she'd be running circles around him. Alec stays for it all, watching from his perch atop his broomstick, arms crossed and his always straight lined mouth downturned slightly at the ends.

They don't quit until he calls out to them and when he does Thea and Albus collapse into the damp grass. They're breathing is heavy, labored as they rest and Alec floats down towards them, hovering just above, with one of his signature frowns.

"I need you two to do better," he says, this time his voice is calm.

"We're doing the best we can, mate," Albus huffs between breaths and Alec shakes his head slightly.

"This is my last season here. You two are going to be running things next year."

"Why would _we_ be running things?" Thea says and even in the dark Albus can see the captain's eyebrow rise.

"Thea, do better. Be the leader they need because next year-"

"Can't we focus on this year?" she says, sitting up.

"You can't avoid this talk forever," Alec says, dismounting. "You keep changing the subject but I don't trust anyone else to take over the squad."

"It's not up to you, though," Albus reminds him and Alec nods.

"Right, but it helps if they see that I approve of it. Thea's my co-captain. It makes sense that she'd move into that position next year, with you as her co."

"Fine, I'll do better," Thea mutters. "If only to get you to shut up about it." She adds a laugh for good measure and Alec offers his hand out to her, then does the same for Albus.

"Your dads are coming tomorrow," Albus says as the three make their way towards the locker rooms. "Going to give them a show?"

"My father could care less about Quidditch, but he'll be here to make sure that we win and schmooze with some of the board members," Alec says boredly.

"And no matter what happens tomorrow, mine will have to pretend to be 'so proud' of whichever one of us loses whilst being secretly more excited for the other. Scorpius will be desperate to win, Albus. Especially after last year."

"You two still not talking about that match?" Alec asks regarding Thea and Scorpius and she snorts.

"It's a point of contention we've agreed not to talk about but I still mean to bring it up tomorrow morning to see if it will put him on edge."

"Cruel as ever," Albus jokes and she nudges him playfully.

"Don't think I won't do the same to James," she says and Alec actually laughs.

"I like the way you think, Malfoy."

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

They're going to lose, he realizes.

They're going to lose and it won't matter if he finds the snitch because his sister will have nearly demolished them in points scored. Meanwhile, Ravenclaw has yet to put any points on the board in the last hour and he's still searching for the bloody snitch.

Thea's taunts ring in his head and despite his training, he begins to doubt himself. She promised never to bring up last year's match but he knows she's only brought it up to get into his head. She knows he's still beating himself over the previous defeat, just as he'll do again if he can't start turning things around.

His chasers are tired, gassed by Slytherin's players, and discouraged by the fact that Alec Zabini is currently holding onto a shut-out. Thea has the quaffle for her twelfth consecutive throw on goal and Scorpius can't reach them in time before it sails through the outer right ring.

"Better luck next time, big brother," she shouts out to him, high-fiving Elara Murrow as they laugh in sync.

Eighty points, he thinks. Eighty bloody points and Ravenclaw can't even get ten.

His father is sitting in the stands, his arms crossed over his chest and despite his usual composure he can tell there is enjoyment in his features. His father has always loved Quidditch and it's one of the only topics of conversation they can both settle on comfortably. But despite his attempts at being unbiased, the man is a Slytherin fan through and through.

It's raining too, an unfortunate turn of weather as the game gets underway and while it's not cold enough for snow, the cool rain is enough to chill Scorpius to the bone. He's soaked, his blond hair sticking to his face and while his goggles protect his eyes from the sting of the cold drops, the rest of his face stays exposed.

There is a scuffle below, and he can see Preston and Thea fighting for the quaffle. Some heated words are exchanged and eventually she breaks free from his hold, the quaffle in hand. A poorly timed bludger heads in her direction but she spins away from it and tosses the quaffle to Sarlic Avery who whooshes by her.

"Get back! Hurry back!" he shouts to Lorcan who is weaving in and out between Slytherin players and dodging Finnbar Flint's bludger which only narrowly misses the end of both of their brooms.

Lorcan is fast, able to push himself into Sarlic before he can make it to the rings and the quaffle falls from possession, only to be quickly recovered by Thea.

His groan is audible, and he shakes his head as their keeper, Matherson, dives in the opposite direction, misreading Thea's body language as the quaffle again sails into the right outer ring. Scorpius races over to his keeper who is angrily cursing under his breath.

"She favors the right, Math. Get your shit together."

"The second I dive for the right she'll start using the left," Matherson barks back.

"Read her bluff," Scorpius says. "She always shifts before she throws. Whichever leg she shifts, she's throwing in the opposite direction." Matherson nods. "Now start blocking the bloody quaffle."

"Shouldn't you be catching the damn snitch?" he retorts and Scorpius mutters under his breath as he stares at the clouds, waiting for a glint of anything golden.

Another scuffle draws his eyes away and he can see Preston once again going head to head with Thea. Both are shouting, though neither has the quaffle. He can't make out the words but he knows his sister well enough that whatever she's said, she has Preston fuming. Eyes are focused on Emery Baddock who holds the quaffle through a crowd of Ravenclaws, but Scorpius doesn't miss Preston's fist as he shoots across Thea's face.

His blood is boiling as he races across the field, watching as Thea is knocked back, losing her balance as she slips off of her broom and his heart sinks as she falls, nearly plummeting to the pitch below, but she grabs hold of the broom with her right arm, blood dripping from her mouth.

There are boos from the crowd but Madame Spinnet misses the foul and Scorpius reaches his arm out to help his sister back on the broom.

"You're wasting time, Scorpius," she mutters, wiping her mouth with her robe sleeves and he frowns.

"You're welcome," he replies, grumbling.

He doesn't let go of her until her balance is restored and Preston is already gone, chasing after Sarlic.

"Shit, Thea. You're bleeding everywhere," he says, watching the blood still falling down her split lip and she shrugs, cringing slightly as she touches her mouth.

"It's fine. I've had worse," she tells him. "That prick is lucky I fell off the broom or he'd be the one with a busted face."

"Try and keep it together. Father's here."

"And you are about to lose another match, Brother Mine, so get going already and stop fussing over me," she says, her voice low and glances upwards. Scorpius follows her gaze to where Albus shoots across the sky, rain pelting against his face as he chases after the golden object that could finally finish the game. "Tick tock," are her final words as she races into the mass of players, swarming together for control of the quaffle.

Scorpius doesn't waste time though he knows he's maybe too far away to make much of a difference now. Still, he remembers his father in the crowd, watching and waiting for one of them to pull away with a victory and for today, he's tired of being second best to his sister.

He's vertical, flying up and up into the coldest part of the clouds, so high that the rain turns to small slivers of ice that strike his cheek and he hisses. He only catches up with Albus because the Slytherin takes an abrupt turn and Scorpius leans hard into his broom in order to take the turn as well.

They're parallel, Albus' hand is outstretched and there is little space between them as the sleeves of their robes dance together against the wind. Albus grins over at him, and Scorpius, despite his desperation can't help but smile as well at the competitiveness they both harbor. Albus has always been a reluctant player, but he can't deny that over the years he's gotten better, good enough even to beat him.

The snitch dives, and they dive as well, Scorpius' speed pulling him slightly out in front as they shoot towards the ground, faster and faster until they both are forced to pull up and follow the snitch that races low to the ground and then darts up with a sudden burst.

It's pure luck when he reaches out his hand and catches it.

Albus's eyes are wide and he groans as he sits up on the broomstick, letting Scorpius dwell in the moment as his name is announced across the pitch.

"Scorpius Malfoy has caught the snitch!" he hears and the crowd erupts in cheers. "Ravenclaw wins!"

Scorpius feels his heart swell slightly when he looks over to the crowd and sees his father standing, hands clapping and a wide grin on his face. He's overwhelmed then, watching as Thea flies by, smiling hideously through her bloodied mouth and she's shaking her head, clapping as well.

"I should have kept my mouth shut," she teases, nudging her shoulder against his and he nudges her back.

"I was just giving Albus a head start," he replies and she barks out a laugh.

"Well? Go on. Tell Papa that I'll see the both of you later."

"You're not coming?" he asks and she shakes her head, wiping away her lip again which is beginning to clot.

"Alec won't be pleased. I'm sure it'll be a half hour at least. But I'll be there for supper."

He doesn't have time to fly off to greet Rose where she stands jumping excitedly, waving a Ravenclaw flag near her fellow Gryffindors. He's immediately bombarded by his teammates, some nearly knocking him off of his broom. He dismounts for good measure as the chatter erupts into Ravenclaw chants. Slytherin, meanwhile, slinks off again in disappointment.

He feels bad for them, but the moment is fleeting because he's won and isn't going to waste time feeling sorry for the competition.

He doesn't bother with the showers before he heads down towards the pitch where his father stands talking to Professor McGonagall. The crowds begin to disperse and Scorpius finds Rose waiting for him with a large grin and her Ravenclaw flag waving. He can't hide the stupid smile that spreads across his face and he reaches for her. She giggles as he presses his lips against hers.

"You were spectacular just now," she tells him and he rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

"Lucky bastard, is more like it," he says through his teeth, attempting to stay out of earshot of his father who looks up from his conversation and excuses himself to walk over. "Last chance to back out," he warns her and she swats his shoulder playfully.

"Scorpius!" says Draco, walking over with a grin. He's dressed in a long black coat but sports his old Slytherin scarf out of tradition. "Magnificent catch, son. Well done."

"Yes well, I would have preferred us to get some points on the board before that, but I won't complain over a win," he says rubbing the back of his neck and he is surprised when his father opens his arms.

They don't hug much, not anymore. And they've never been a family much for public displays for affection. But he doesn't deny his father the embrace, moving close enough that his father wraps his arms around his shoulders and squeezes once. They're both smiling when they pull away.

"The fact that you were able to chase Albus down when he had such a lead is commendable. I was never quite as fast." Rose squeezes his hand, knowing the excitement in his father's voice has Scorpius beaming. "Now, let us stop being so rude to Ms. Weasley here."

"It's, uh, Granger-Weasley, sir," she replies and Draco's grin widens.

"Yes, of course it is," he says with a light chuckle, reaching out to shake her hand. "It is remarkable, your resemblance to your mother. Though, Scorpius tells me you have inherited her studious temperament as well."

"Oh he did?" she says, eyeing Scorpius.

"Indeed, though I have heard things have become quite heated between the two of you."

Scorpius tenses and Rose smile falls.

"Sorry, what?" he asks his father.

"The Headmaster tells me the competition between the both of you for highest marks is getting quite close," he clarifies and both Scorpius and Rose noticeably relax. "Speaking of which, where is your sister, Scorpius? She seems to have slipped off."

"She said she would catch up," Scorpius tells him. "Alec Zabini is fond of long-winded speeches, so I'm told."

"Ah, a family trait, I believe," Draco says, nodding towards Zabini senior who is currently speaking fervently to a pair of faculty. Rose laughs from beside him. "Come, let us walk to the castle, Miss. Granger-Weasley. I feel it is my fatherly duty to warn you about my son."

Rose patiently obliges and Scorpius follows closely behind as his father launches into stories of Scorpius that are perhaps better left unsaid. It's strange to see his father in such good spirits, but Scorpius decides that in case it might be fleeting, he will enjoy it while it lasts.

When Rose smiles at him over her shoulder, her red hair dancing in the wind, he's sure things are looking up for him. And he's certain, in that moment, that he's in love with her.

* * *

 **JAMES**

He feels like an idiot, standing there in the rain as it begins to come down harder and despite his spelled umbrella nothing is really shielding him from the chill that accompanies it.

It's been an hour since he stood against the outside of the locker rooms and he isn't even sure why he's here to begin with, only that as each player from Slytherin emerges, he feels a slight disappointment when it's not her.

He should just walk away, he decides. There is no reason for him to wait. But he remembers Preston Corner busting her lip and he can't make his legs move. He thinks about waiting for Preston, giving him a taste of his own medicine in return, but as the Ravenclaw emerges from his locker room as well, James just stands there, feet glued to that spot, and watches him walk away. He's not entirely sure how he'd even explain himself if he did. So he stays there, his hands curling his notebook tighter and tighter as he waits to come to his senses.

Alec is the last one out, except Thea, and he stops when he sees James standing nearby. He adjusts his glasses, sharp and black-rimmed.

"Here to gloat, Potter?" he asks, his brow rising and James forces a laugh.

"Not quite, Zabini," he replies, leaning back against the wall of the stands. "Even I can't deny that your squad put up an impressive number of points. And you managed it all with a shutout as well."

"And yet we lost," Alec reminds him, his tone sour as he eyes a tall man in what is leftover of a small crowd and James realizes it's probably Alec's father.

"Points make a difference for house cup," James offers, looking back at the door anxiously, expecting her to walk out at any moment but she doesn't.

"Yeah well, we won't make the same mistake against you lot," Alec says, his attempt at a joke and James humors him with a chuckle.

"Yeah, alright," James says, nodding and when there are no more pleasantries to be said, they part in silence.

He waits exactly ten more minutes, wrestling with the idea of walking into the locker room, before he decides to actually do it. He opens the door, slowly at first and hears nothing, not even the showers running, and he wonders if she managed to slip out without him knowing.

The Slytherin locker rooms are tidy and neat. Banners of emerald and silver hang from the walks and candles float from the ceiling, bobbing up and down, as the angry sky is mirrored above it.

He doesn't expect to find her sitting there, on a lonely bench in the center of the room. She is still dressed in her uniform, only her gloves are thrown and forgotten on the floor a few feet away. She glances up at him, eyes wide beneath her eyelashes, and there are still marks around her eyes from where the goggles were pressed.

But all he sees is her split lip and he instantly regrets not confronting Preston when he had the chance.

"Did anyone see you?" she asks, sitting up and looking towards the door and he shakes his head. "Are you here to tell me everything I did wrong?"

James sits down beside her, his legs on either side of the bench and he smiles.

"I did think the left flank was a bit weak," he says quietly and her bloodied lip pulls up at the corners, slowly.

"Funny," she says, toying with the sleeve of her robes.

James glances down at her lip again and tenses.

"Do you want me to kick his arse?" he asks her, trying to hide his anger behind a laugh.

"If I wanted his arse kicked, I'd have done it myself," she replies, pulling her leg up and tossing it over the side of the bench so that they are face to face.

"Fair enough," he replies, reaching out and grabbing the fabric of her robes at her waist and he pulls her gently towards him.

She moves slowly over the bench until their knees touch. He places his notebook down in front of him and reaches out to brush her damp hair out of her face. He grabs his wand from his pocket and raises it and briefly wonders why she hasn't healed the wound, herself.

"Shall I?" he asks and she cocks her head slightly.

"Should I trust you not to muck it up?" she asks him.

"I promise I won't make you look worse than you already do," he teases her and she chuckles at that.

"Oh please," she whispers, her eyes locked to his. "We both know you wouldn't be in here if you didn't find me devastatingly attractive."

"You think awfully highly of yourself, don't you?" he says, grinning and she doesn't flinch as he whispers a healing spell towards her bottom lip.

The skin grows and stitches itself together in seconds and when he wipes off the dried blood, her lip is as soft and smooth as it was before. He brushes his thumb over it and feels his pulse quicken as her mouth parts at his touch. Her hands rest on his knees, brushing up higher until they rest on his thighs and James pulls at her again, this time lifting her small frame so her legs now rest on either side of his hips.

"Am I wrong?" she asks and so he's drunk in the feeling of her body pressed to his that he's forgotten the question. As if she knows, she adds, "That's why you're here isn't it?"

"I'm here, Malfoy, because I wanted to express my condolences for your loss," he tells her and she gives him a playful frown in response. Her damp hair falls around him from where she sits, staring down at him, and he feels his breath quicken as her hips roll over his. "More dramatic effect?" he asks and there is a laugh deep in her chest as she pushes her mouth against his.

Her robes are damp, still wet from the rain, and she lets the cloak fall off over her shoulders, her arms shimmying out of the sleeves with the same desperation that is laced in her kiss. James helps her, breaking only long enough to pull the jumper over her head. His mouth finds her neck then and she lets out a small gasp as they travel lower and find the upper curve of her breast. He's stopped by the seam of her sports bra.

It only takes a second before he removes the damned thing as well, freeing her from its constraints.

He doesn't say that she's right about why he's here. Thea Malfoy is undeniably attractive, that much is obvious despite their years of verbal sparring. But Thea Malfoy, half naked, milky flesh glowing in the candlelight, might be the most exquisite thing he's ever seen. But he refuses to tell her, knowing it will only increase her already over-inflated ego.

He feels a primal sound rising in his chest when she starts to crawl off of him, his hands pressing her hips back to his and she half laughs, half sighs as he pulls her against his growing erection. But she pulls back again, this time he lets her, feeling the disappointment shudder through him for only a moment before he sees her hands pull at the belt of her uniform trousers and slides them down slowly over her hips. He leans back, his palms on the bench behind him as he watches her.

"Is that your playbook?" she says, wiggling her eyebrows as she eyes the notebook in front of him and he shakes his head.

"No, it's not," he says, standing and walking towards her.

"And I suppose even if it was you wouldn't tell me," she says and he shrugs, grinning. "What is it then?" she asks, her voice low as she tugs at his scarf and the scarlet and gold knit falls to the ground, followed by his own jumper and undershirt.

"Nothing important," he tells her, his eyes watching her fingers touching the belt buckle to his trousers. She's taking too long, toying with him as if she's forgotten how a belt buckle works and so he does it for her and she tugs at the waist of his pants, walking him backwards.

"Fancy a shower?" she asks and when his trousers and boxers fall to the ground he nods, lifting her into his arms and her legs wrap around his waist.

The water is warm as the water falls over them, their lips still attached. Thea pulls the curtain, granting them privacy that neither seemed particularly concerned about before. He feels a wicked grin pulling at his cheeks when he spots her scarlet-colored underwear and her eyes dare him to comment. But he doesn't rise to the threat, only lets his finger hook around the thin fabric and he drops to his knees in front of her as he slides them down her legs.

The water pours over them and his brown eyes lock with her hazel ones and he watches as her lips tremble slightly. His fingers linger on each curve of her legs, his thumb grazing the flesh of her thighs. Water droplets race down across her skin, dripping from his lips and chin. Her eyes close when he presses his lips to the inside of her legs, her calves first, then higher until he lets his fingers linger on the back of her knees.

He's not sure if she laughs or sighs at the action, immediately losing her composure and her eyes close at his touch. Whatever it is, he likes the sound and, greedy for more, he places his lips against the sensitive flesh of her thigh and she squirms, her fingers tangling in his hair and he laughs when she tugs gently at his curls.

"Don't tease," she says breathily, and James stands.

He towers over her, letting the water continue to warm his skin, and when she eyes the length of him, he knows he won't be able to endure much more before he has to be inside of her. She slides her hands over his chest and despite how excruciatingly slow they move, he can see her fingers shaking as she tries to contain some semblance of control.

When her arms finally wrap around her neck, he uses one arm to lift her, pressing her back against the cool tile of the shower and she hisses under her breath. He places one hand against the tile, balancing them both and he groans when she grabs hold of him, her small hands encircling him and the pressure alone threatens to push him over the edge.

He opens his eyes, only once to meet her own and she nods quickly, breathless, as he then pushes into her and both of them cry out. He buries his face in the nook of her shoulder. She moves her hips with his as he thrusts and he nibbles gently on the skin of her shoulder as she squirms against him.

He thinks about this, more often than he probably should. But since the night in the potions store room his fingers ache to touch her when they are in the same room together. He had to excuse himself from Herbology when he saw her fingers grazing absently at her bottom lip and all he could imagine was when she'd wrapped that pretty pink mouth around him before class.

"Faster," she whispers into his ear, letting her teeth graze his earlobe, and despite the heat of the water his skin breaks out in gooseflesh. He's happy to oblige her request.

His movements grow faster, each thrust met with her hips pushing into his own and he lets his mouth find hers. Her eyes close and small sounds of pleasure dance in her throat when he pulls away. He watches her, the way she bites her lip to keep from letting those sounds escape and the way her dark brows furrow with each thrust. He memorizes the way her face looks painted in pleasure.

He brushes wet hair from her face, watching as her lips part. A soft moan escapes her throat and each stroke becomes a struggle, his breaths growing labored, but he doesn't have to wait long before the moan turns into his name and he feels her nails scrape against his back.

"Jamie," she cries out softly and he finds his release in that word, that word he hates, but from her lips it pushes him over and he shudders, his head resting against her chest, his breaths heavy against her skin.

When he glances up she's watching him and despite the fact that they're finished, she kisses him again. This time, her lips are soft, tender and warm. He sets her down, keeping his lips attached to hers.

He expects her to shoo him off, like the last time and the time before. But when she pulls away, she turns, grabs the soap from the tray nearby and hands it to him. He takes it slowly, watching as she pulls her hair over her shoulder and glances back at him expectantly.

There is a strange intimacy in the action, though once again, he abides her unspoken request, and lets the soap slide over her back.

For that moment, they allow themselves the comfort of each other's touch and when James places his lips against her hair as he washes her, his smile is soft and he's glad she can't see it.

* * *

x 


	12. Chapter 12

x

 **BURN**

Chapter Twelve:

 _The First Snow_

* * *

 **ROSE**

It's the last Hogsmeade trip of the term. The sun is setting quickly behind the mountains, shadowing the village in darkness. Twinkle lights flicker brightly above the town, strings and strands of various festive colors swoop down between buildings and Rose is mesmerized by its beauty.

There is more than a chill in the air, she thinks, as her knit-covered fingers intertwine with Scorpius'. They've only just left the Three Broomsticks, the festivities of term end will likely be celebrated long into the night. When they left, Roxy had caught Lorcan under the mistletoe.

There is music in the streets which are damp and slippery and Scorpius has already had to keep her from falling twice. They're laughing and smiling and Rose feels her stomach wretched with nerves because all she wants to say to him is _I love you_ but the words won't come out so she rambles stupidly instead.

"You have no reason to be anxious about the gala," he says, when she tells him her strange behavior is due to the Malfoy's upcoming benefit at Sandwith Hall. "My father is raising funds for the International Magical Medical Research Cooperative. My sister has helped organize events that will keep them entirely occupied for the evening. You won't even have to mingle if you don't want to."

"My mum does benefits like this all the time," she says. "I've been to a few and I always end up having to talk to her associates. I guess it's just that your gala…"

"My _father's_ gala," he corrects, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "Theodora's, really."

"Whatever," she teases. "I just imagine this gala being so overwhelmingly grand. I'm afraid I'll stick out like a sore thumb," she says and he chuckles lightly

"You haven't even seen it yet," he said with a laugh. "Theodora's aesthetic isn't as lavish as you might think. And I am sorry to inform you that you will absolutely stand out amongst the crowd, lovely as you are."

Heat rises to her cheeks and she squeezes at his hand.

She does recall Thea's dorm being tidy and concise. It was not as ornate as perhaps she had expected of a Malfoy. But perhaps she had been wrong about them all along. She had asked her mother about Sandwith Hall in passing and was told it was a manor that had been one of the few Greengrass estates she had not seen with her own eyes. But after some digging of her own, Rose found that Draco had moved into the estate not long after his engagement to Astoria, resigning his claim over Malfoy Manor.

But Malfoy Manor does not remain empty. Every so often she reads small columns in the gossip section about the Malfoy family. Though she desperately tries not to read such rubbish, her curiosity can often get the better of her. Lucius Malfoy became a recluse after the war, spending some time in Azkaban for crimes he had committed but was let out after seven years of incarceration as a reward for his family's defection. She knew next to nothing about Narcissa, only that her Uncle Harry had once spoken a kind word about her in passing.

"Will, erm…" she starts, glancing down at the ground. "Will your grandparents be there?"

His footsteps slow and they come to a slow halt. He turns towards her, glancing down and his brows are furrowed in confusion.

"Is that what you're worried about?" he asks her.

"Not worried, no. I just wondered. You never talk about them," she says and his eyes dance away from hers.

"I don't talk about them, Rose, because I rarely see them. My mother and father did not allow them to be a major part of our lives growing up. Once a year my father would begrudgingly call on my grandmother to visit us. I've only seen my grandfather a hand full of times, none of which were pleasant," he says and she nods, seeing the discomfort in his eyes and suddenly she wishes she never brought it up. "But they will absolutely not be there. They are not welcome in our home, especially after the way my grandfather behaves towards my sister."

"Your sister?" she asks, hearing the anger in his voice and he breathes in deeply, letting the breath fall slow and steady.

"Everyone heard the rumors years ago, about my sister, about the ridiculous notion that she could have been some sort of time-travelling bastard of Voldemort," he says and she cringes slightly at the name. She's heard these rumors, her parents often contemplated their truth as well, years ago. "No matter how many times it was disproved, my grandfather still wants to believe Theodora is a bastard. 'She doesn't look like a Malfoy,' he'd always say. My father stopped seeing him completely after that. Theodora took the rumors the hardest. But there is no denying she is my father's daughter," he says, chuckling on the last line and she gives him a sad smile in return.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," she says and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry I have to talk about those things. About those people. I don't know them, and I don't want to know them. What they did was wrong and I'm not certain they're even all that sorry for it. I just hope," he says, looking down at her and grabbing both of her hands in his. "I hope you don't ever see me that way."

"Never," she says quickly, no pauses. "Never, Scorpius," she repeats.

They walk in silence for many moments after. There is an awkward void where there was once laughter and teasing. She remembers Roxy's words and thinks they'll make him smile as well.

"So, you'll never believe what Roxy thinks about Thea," she says, her voice light and the distant look in his eye fades as he raises his brows. "It's silly, but...she has this wild notion that Thea and James secretly fancy one another."

She's smiles when he lets out a loud laugh.

"Why in Dumbledore's name would she come to that conclusion?" he asks her, shaking his head. "My sister's distaste for James is well documented."

"I said the same thing. But she swears she saw them in the corridors last week, looking more friendly than combative."

"I tell her all the time to drop the act," he says. "Maybe she's finally listened."

"Act?" she asks and he rolls his eyes.

"Yes, this whole persona she creates, it's more of an exaggeration of who she really is," he tells her and Rose looks at him, eyes narrowing in thought. "Don't misunderstand, the incessant questions and sarcastic commentary is very much her personality. But the isolation, the way she plays into the rumors people make up about her, how everything seems bores her to tears. She's not like that when it's just us. She'd murder me for telling you that she's actually quite nice when she wants to be. Though I can see there's more. I know she's lonely."

"She says that?" Rose asks, feeling her heart sink.

"No, but I can tell. She has Albus of course but I suspect she's a bit jealous of people who make friends easily. Like the rest of us."

"I can see that," Rose says, contemplating. "But she acts like nothing affects her. You even said her most severe reaction is mild indifference."

"Yes well, that was partially true," he admits and she gives him a look of faux disappointment. "She doesn't want people to see that things bother her, even me. So it's hard to know what really goes on in that head of hers. Though, don't be surprised if over the holidays she seems to enjoy herself a little more than you're used to. She especially loves this time of year."

"Theodora Malfoy actually enjoys something other than taunting first years and baiting James into arguments?"

"You'd be surprised."

They both chuckle and she leans in closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walk. He's warm, and he smells of cedar and nutmeg. She closes her eyes, letting the music lull her into a peaceful reverie and she jumps slightly when she feels something light and cold on her nose.

"Is that?" Scorpius says and she opens her eyes, looking up at the sky.

White flakes, slow to start, float down from the clouds. Soon, they arrive quicker, more frequently and as they fall to the ground they do not melt away. Her smile is wide, as is his.

"Snow," she whispers.

* * *

 **ALBUS**

"You had to tell her eventually."

"I know."

"Well? How did she take it? Isn't she coming with us to the village?"

Albus glances back at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room and he sighs, shrugging in response. He hasn't wanted to tell Thea that he can't go the gala, the gala that she's been planning for months to exact specifications and the expectation that he'll be there was heavily implied. Now that he has told her, he feels instantly guilty.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Albus says and Lysander crosses his arms over his chest.

"That she come to the village?" he asks and Albus bites the inside of his cheek. Lysander frowns. "She said we were going to go ice skating."

"I can go ice skating," Albus says and Lysander shoots him a look.

"You _hate_ ice skating, Albus," he says and Albus shrugs.

"Maybe, but I would go if it would make you happy," he says and Lysander's frown twitches at the edges.

"But it wouldn't be fun for you, which would _not_ make me happy," says Lysander.

Two Slytherin girls walk by, donned in coats and scarves and they eye Lysander with predatory smiles and Albus feels his own frown deepen as well.

"Oh piss off," he mutters and the girls snicker, glancing once more over their shoulders at the blonde and while Albus is tempted to add a gesture with his hand, Lysander takes it in his own and shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

"The 'jealous boyfriend' bit is hot, Al, but you have nothing to worry about," he says, pulling Albus down the corridor in the same direction. "Come on, we can find something exciting to do down at the village. You may not like ice skating, but there isn't a witch or wizard who doesn't love a bit of holiday cheer."

"Can that cheer be in the form of an alcoholic beverage?" Albus asks and Lysander smirks.

"That bad, was it?" he asks, referring to Thea and though Albus would prefer not to talk about it, he knows Lysander wants to know why Thea has bailed when the two of them had been planning their outing all week.

"She looks like hell," Albus says first and Lysander snorts.

"Well I hope you didn't start with that," he says.

"Why? She does."

"You didn't?" Lysander says and Albus shrugs. "You told your best friend she looked like hell right before you told her you weren't going to her party?"

"She didn't care."

"Maybe she didn't look like she cared but I'm sure she did. Unless of course the rumors are true and Thea doesn't actually have a soul."

"Is that a rumor?" Albus asks, mild interest piqued and Lysander nods. "Well, as an inside scoop, I can assure you she does have a soul, a soul that was not pleased with the fact that I told her I wasn't going to the gala. You should have seen her. I almost caved. But it's not like she'll have time to hang out with me anyways. And she would have forced me to dance, which I hate, so really you saved my life by dragging me away."

"Dragged you, did I?" he says, his grin widening. He wraps his arm around Albus and squeezes. "I recall it a bit differently."

"Who cares how it happened? I'm thankful, that's what matters."

"Sure," replies Lysander, leaning in and kissing him on the top of the head. "Word of advice, though? You may be her best friend, but probably refrain from pointing out when she looks like hell, in the future. You might have better luck."

"Right, flies with honey, all that," Albus recalls and they both break out into laughter.

It's snowing when they reach the grounds and there are actual patches of white on the ground when the make their way into the village. They pass Rose and Scorpius talking seriously about something and so neither has a mind to interrupt.

The Three Broomsticks is bustling with students and the bartenders are their usual form of annoyed as they serve the rowdy individuals to their prescribes limits. Albus isn't quite sure about the festivities when they arrive and briefly contemplates if maybe ice skating would have been the more preferred option after all.

"What do you want to drink?" Lysander asks and Albus settles on an ale and they part so Albus can find a place for them to sit.

Albus wades through the crowds, pushing himself through many teenagers who are now singing christmas carols at the tops of their lungs and snogging under well-placed sprigs of mistletoe. He finds a seat near the corner, the candlelight flickers slightly above due to the window that is cracked slightly and he closes it as he sits down. He doesn't notice Bas in the corner reading with a cigarette between his fingers until he's seated.

"Found a quiet place to read, did you?" he asks and Bas looks up from the page and smiles when he sees it's Albus.

"Eh, not much different than the common room really. All the first and second years are in there making a fuss about not being allowed to Hogsmeade. I can't really sympathize since when we were first years, James had Davy and I sneaking out with that old map," he says and Albus chuckles, knowing exactly what map he refers to and how James is always reluctant to share it.

"How is Davy?" Albus asks and Bas' smile only falls slightly as he takes a hit from the cigarette and shrugs.

"Doing as well as I can imagine," says Bas. "He's putting on a brave face but I know it's hard, especially with the holidays and all."

"Will he be back for next term?" Albus asks.

"I think so," says Bas. "James and I are going to take him to the city for the new year. Hopefully to help keep his mind off of things."

At James' name Albus looks around. Amongst the crowds of fifth, sixth and seventh years, he doesn't see his disheveled brother anywhere. He spots a brief view of Val and Preston, followed by Roxy and Lorcan. But even amongst the crowds of Gryffindors huddled around the bar, he doesn't see any sign of him.

"Did we miss James?" he asks and Bas looks up again from his book, shaking his head.

"Nah," he says. "The tosser left me to fend for myself after he finished up with detention."

"Detention!?" Albus says. It comes out as a groan. "Again?"

"Some fight with Preston Corner," Bas says, squinting. "I only caught the tail end of it so I don't know what started it but they'd resorted to shoves and one very well placed fist before Professor Longbottom sorted them out."

"I swear he lives in detention, these days," Albus mutters, shaking his head.

"Talking about your brother?" Lysander asks, holding three beers as he squeezes around a few patrons and sets them on the table. "I saw you were in need a refill," he says to Bas who nods his head in thanks.

"Cheers, mate!" Bas says, and the three of them lift their pints in a toast.

"James got detention for a punching Preston Corner."

"I'm sure that was probably deserved, actually," Lysander replies and Bas shakes his head as he takes a long gulp of the ale.

"Nah it was the other way around," Bas corrects. "James is sporting a pretty dark eye as well. McGonagall said he's prohibited from using healing spells as punishment." Albus chuckles at the thought. "Said he wasn't in the mood to come out after."

"He's seemed a bit strange, hasn't he?" Lysander asks. "Since quitting Prefects."

"I think he's realizing the year is ending faster than he thought," Bas says. "I know your dad's been putting a bit of pressure on him about next year."

"James doesn't want to take the auror's exam," Albus admits. "I think dad only suggested it to give him some direction."

"James' direction is far from auror training," says Bas, shaking his head. "Mate needs to go out and get away from it all, find himself or some shit."

The three of them erupt into laughter, clinking their glasses together again before Albus sips the amber colored liquid. He leans back in the booth, Lysander's arm around the back of him. Bas puts down the book and they talk for what seems like hours into the night. He feels a slight twinge of guilt when he thinks of Thea, alone in her dorms or packed into the library with her books and papers and hopes she isn't too upset.

Roxy and Lorcan join them when they've hit their serve limit at the bar. The group squeezes together and Albus' hand rests on Lysander's thigh. Their eyes meet occasionally, for long drawn out looks and he can feel his stomach flutter each time Lysander's fingers graze the back of Albus' neck.

It's late, when they emerge from the pub and the snow has come down enough that there is a now a white sheet over the ground. More students, stragglers like them, emerge as well, making their way back up the street towards the castle and he feels himself pulled from the steady flow of movement by Lysander. They're laughing, quiet chuckles in the darkness, as they follow a small path to a bridge that overlooks a stream nearby.

Lanterns line the ends of the bridge and the ledge is bewitched with sparkling lights. They stop at the bridges apex, looking out over the water of the small creek as ice forms on its outer banks. Snow flutters down upon their hair and faces and when he turns he sees Lysander is holding something above their heads. Albus can't help but laugh.

"Really?" he asks, trying to sound annoyed but his cheeks sting from the amount of laughter and mixed with the cold of the light breeze that propels the snow. "Mistletoe?"

"Indulge a hopeless romantic?" he asks, sticking his bottom lip out and Albus can't deny the beautiful blond, whose golden hair seems to sing in the light of the lanterns.

He leans in, pressing his lips against Lysander's. The kiss is tender, soft first and then grows more fervent when Albus places his hands on either side of his face, pulling him closer. Lysander's hand holding the mistletoe drops at some point because Albus feels his arm wrap around his waist, pulling him tighter.

The taste of whiskey on Lysander's lips reminds him of his loosened inhibitions and suddenly he doesn't feel as nervous to say what he's been thinking all night. He pulls away, placing his forehead against Lysander's as he catches his breath.

"I love you," he says and Lysander's eyes widen, rising from Albus' lips to his meet his own. Then they soften, and his lips curve up into an elated smile.

"You're not just saying that because you're drunk, are you?" he asks and Albus shakes his head.

"No, I've been wanting to say it for a while," Albus replies. "And I only had two pints. I'm not drunk."

"But you do love me?" Lysander asks and Albus snorts.

"Yes. I do."

"Good," he answers, kissing Albus abruptly. "Because I love you as well."

Albus is certain he is grinning like an idiot but he doesn't care as they stand there, laughing and kissing, exposed in the festive night air. The longer they stand there, the more flecks of snow cover their hair and faces and Albus decides maybe he doesn't mind the season as much as he thought.

If this is what the season is about, he's certain he doesn't mind at all.

* * *

 **JAMES**

"This book is six weeks overdue, Mr. Potter," Madame Huynh says, glancing up at him from where she's seated and James attempts an apologetic smile which is returned by a disappointed shake of the head. "The next time you decide you need more time with the text, please see me so I can make appropriate adjustments to your lending period.

"Yes, Madame Huynh," he agrees.

"And if you plan on going out _there_ ," she says, referring to the small frozen lake when she eyes his ice skates, you had better make it quick. All upperclassmen should be in before eleven."

He nods, adding a quick wink that makes her do a double take before returning to a stack of papers on her desk.

There are only a handful of students in the library. Most are either roaming the streets of Hogsmeade or have gone to bed in order to be up early and catch the morning train back to King's Cross. James was not overly interested in either option as he left detention to finish packing for the trip home. When he found the overdue book sitting on his nightstand, he felt it was good enough reason to wander the halls at night.

He isn't sure that he'll find a certain sleeping brunette there, but he's not disappointed when he does. She's near the back of the library, a nook he's seen her in a number of times and he knows if anything, Theodora Malfoy is a creature of habit.

She has three books in a tidy stack to her right and two open books that are currently half covered by her arms and face as she sleeps on top of them. A few papers sit nearby and James' brow furrows when he sees one of them is a Herbology essay with a mere "Acceptable" printed on top. He remembers the essay and even James who fumbled his way through the majority of it in a post Halloween haze, managed an 'Exceeds'.

He doesn't recognize most of the books she's reading, most are about advanced potions though the thicker of the five is about sleeping spells. Her book bag is on the floor next to her feet and he notices a pair of laces hanging out of said bag that makes him wonder if they belong to a pair of ice skates like his own.

James glances around, seeing no one nearby after a first year makes his way towards the front, and crouches down at her side. He places his lips gently across the exposed skin of her shoulder, his jumper's collar spanning down her neck. She stirs slowly, I small smile on her lips as she turns her head towards him. Her mess of a bun makes him grin as it bounces when she moves. When her eyes blink open, she sits up quickly, searching the room for spectators only to find she's alone with James.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, quickly pushing her essay in between the pages of a book she closes and stacks underneath the other three.

"I was returning a book, of all things," he says lightly, watching her rub at her eyes and his eyes linger for a moment at the creases under her eyes. "What is it you're doing, exactly? Testing out spells on power naps?"

"Something like that," she says, sitting up and straightening her back.

She doesn't meet his gaze until her eyes rest on him and the crease in her forehead grows. She brings her hand up to his face, her small fingers gently grazing the spot below his eye and he flinches slightly, placing his hand over hers.

"Who beat you up, Potter?" she asks and her words are playful but her eyes still dance over the mark. "I'd like to send them a thank you."

"It's nothing," he tells her, pulling her hand gently away but he doesn't let go of it as it rests in her lap. "It's not like you're the only one allowed to hate me."

She smirks but it's small, like a whisper, before it disappears and she looks back down at the desk, pulling her hands from his. He can't tell her where he got the bruise because he doesn't want to explain - or maybe he's not sure how to explain - why he provoked Preston Corner. He was content to leave the sod alone after Thea made it clear that if she wanted the guy beaten to a pulp, she'd likely handle it on her own. But after a run in after class, something took hold of him when he saw that smug look on that bastard's face.

"Do you own a different jumper, or is that it?" he asks, changing the subject as he nods towards the oversized scarlet thing that he hasn't worn in months thanks to her and she pulls the loose fabric up over her shoulder from where it's fallen.

"I happen to like _this_ one," she tells him, picking up her quill and scribbling something in the margins of her parchment.

She pretends to look busy and he can tell it's all for show because she's written the same few words again and again in different prints and she glances over at him when he continues to watch her. Her head falls to the side and she raises a brow as her scribbling comes to a pause.

"Was there something else?" she asks and he smirks, glancing around once more before he leans in, placing his lips against hers and there is a sound of surprise.

Her lips are slightly chapped and there is the taste of tea on her mouth as she relaxes, deepening the kiss and pulling him closer as she tugs on his scarf. She pulls away then, glancing around again and she shakes her head, sitting back into the bench and wipes her mouth gently with the back of her hand.

"This, is a terrible idea," she says in a strained whisper.

"It's not so bad," he says, still crouching with his hands resting on her black jeans. "No one is going to see us back here. Only nerds are in the library the day before going on holiday."

Her response is an exaggerated eyeroll.

"I'm serious. If Albus found out...it just…" she starts but is unable to finish at James' proximity and her words pause when he places his lips on her knee.

"It's fine," he says when he finally stands and she is quick to stand as well, hating the way her neck has to crane back up at him. "I was on my way out anyways," he tells her and she looks halfway relieved but also halfway disappointed as he turns to go.

"Are those, ice skates?" she asks quietly, glancing at the ties draped over his fingers and he nods.

"Mcgonagall froze the pond this morning but hardly anyone has been out there," he says and he watches as her foot toys with the edge of her book bag. "Did you want to go too?" he asks, glancing down at the bag and she lets out a snort that he assumes is supposed to sound insulted.

"I'm far too busy," she says, gesturing to the now one open text in front of her and her scribbled notes of the same three words. "And anyways it's not even…" she pauses to point for dramatic effect towards the window and her words trail off as she spots the white flecks of ice floating down from the night sky.

"Snowing?" he offers for her and she's still mesmerized by the falling powder. "It just started a few hours ago."

He starts walking again and feels slightly put out when he doesn't hear her move from her desk nook. He wraps his coat tighter around him, slipping on his gloves as he makes his way towards the small lake on the edge of the castle grounds. The lighted path leads the way and his skates dance back and forth with each step.

When he arrives at the lake, a small group of Ravenclaws are leaving in fits of laughter. There is a heavy sheet of snow surrounding the pond, and with the lights hung in the trees surrounding it, it has the feel of a winter wonderland. He wipes a thin layer of powdery snow from the nearby bench and slips on his skates, his laces tightening with the flick of his wand.

It's been awhile since the last time he's skated, that much is obvious as he nearly slips and falls on his bum. But a few strides in and he gets the hang of things and he starts rounding the pond, letting the snow stick to his face and hair.

He's rounding the pond for the seventh time when he sees a figure sitting on the bench and his abrupt stop nearly sends him flying. He smiles when he sees her sitting there, her boots sitting neatly on the bench next to her and she sits on her ungloved fingers, legs bouncing quickly.

"I thought you were far too busy?" he asks and she glances over her shoulder before looking back and him and shrugging.

"I figure even I deserve a break," she says matter-of-factly, her voice slightly muffled by her large emerald and grey scarf.

"Well?" he asks. "Are you just going to sit there chattering or are you going to get on the ice"

"I thought perhaps I should wait," she says.

"Wait for what, exactly?" he asks, skating towards her and she shifts.

"Until I can feel my hands," she says, a small laugh from behind the scarf and he shakes his head, skating closer until he can reach out his hand to her.

She stares at it for several moments before glancing back up at him.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she asks and he rolls his eyes.

"No one is going to see us out here," he says. "You didn't come all the way down here to watch me skate. Though, if you did, I would be flattered," he teases and she glances back over her shoulder one more time and groans as she places her hand in his.

He pulls her, too quickly at first because she nearly topples over as she finds her footing and her hand is clamped down to his. She squeals when she is unable to find her balance and so he grabs her other hand in his, pulling her so she is standing straight. He skates backwards and slows as she allows him to ferry her across the pond, her teeth clattering.

He stops sharply near the middle, chuckling lightly as she is forced to slide gently into him and she comes to a halt against his chest with a small 'oof'. He lets his eyes fall over hers as she stares up at him expectantly and he pulls her hands upwards, placing them between his two gloved ones as he then presses them against his mouth. Their gaze doesn't break as he blows gently against them, letting warm air pass through her cold fingertips that are resting on his lips.

"Christ, Malfoy. Don't you own a pair of gloves?" he whispers but she is staring at her hands against his mouth and doesn't answer. "You're hands are freezing."

"A gentleman would probably give me his gloves," she says, her voice low, licking her bottom lip as he watches her.

"I'm not a gentleman," he replies and though is voice is soft he can still see his breath between them.

"Finally something we can agree on," she says with a raised eyebrow and lets her hands fall to his chest where she softly pushes off and skates across the pond on her own.

They circle the ice in opposite directions, passing each other with silent stares. Her skating is no longer unbalanced as she gains speed, even daring a spin here and there and he tells her she is a show off. She only smiles, her eyes wild a she glides. He swears he sees them soften when her fingers graze his gloved ones.

"So," she says, not meeting his gaze as she circles him. He grabs hold of her waist, throwing her slightly off balance long enough that she is forced to stop. "How do we go back?"

"To the castle?" he asks and she looks up from where his hands are touching her.

"To how we _were_ ," she stresses. "The novelty of all of this is going to wear off soon. I want to know what we do when in does. Do we just go back to how things were before?"

The fun is ruined by the seriousness in her eyes and he can tell he won't be able to laugh it off this time as he'd done before. He toys with the belt loop on her trousers, wishing he had enough sense to stop finding her pink lips and windswept cheeks so alluring.

"I don't see why that's something we have to worry about right now," he says, pulling her towards him and she lets herself slide until they are flush.

"Because this has an expiration date," she tells him, her chest against his as she looks up at him, her neck hanging back in an exaggerated crane. "We're going on holiday for two weeks. Things could be different when we get back."

"And if they're not?" he asks, his hands moving down her hips and over her backside where he slips his hands into her back pockets. She closes her eyes and places her head against his chest.

"Then it happens sometime soon after. We'll both be facing quidditch and you'll have N.E.W.T.s. It's inevitable."

"Maybe," he says. "But I don't see myself going back to our daily verbal assaults after this."

"It would be easier to end it now, don't you think?" she asks and he sighs.

"This again?" he asks, the humor in his face fading as she pulls her head back and looks up. "Do you ever stop wanting to control things?"

"There is nothing wrong with being realistic," she says, with a shrug. "If we stop this now, things remain normal and you and I can be amicable acquaintances and move on with our lives in peace. If we wait, who knows what kind of issues will arise."

"So you'd prefer to end this now? Right now."

"As I said, it would be easier."

"This is just sex, Malfoy," he says, his lips curling at the corners. "It's only as complicated as you make it. That being said, if you really want to stop this, we'll stop. But we're both adults here, and I think we are both capable of expressing what we want. And right now, I'm sorry, but I'm not thinking about how we're supposed to behave when we have some sort of theoretical falling out." She shifts slightly against him. "If you're telling me that you'd rather politely go our separate ways, than go back up to the castle and find a dark corner where I can be inside of you, then fine, I accept that. But I can see it in your eyes right now, and I don't think that you want this to be over yet, either." Her eyes dance away for a moment before finding their way back and her hands slide underneath his coat. He can feel how cold they are through his jumper. "Is that what you want Thea? To act like we're strangers? Do you want me to pretend that I haven't kissed my name off your lips while you've cum?"

She doesn't seem to have a witty comeback, or any comeback, as she stands there so near to him as her eyes search his. He can see her mind working, her thoughts protesting in conflicted agony. She's still touching him and he's holding her against him because despite his words he isn't quite sure how he'll let go if she decides to end it now.

James' words are ringing in his head and he wants her. He wants her mouth, the sound of her moans as she rides him. He wants that arch in her back, the curve of her breasts in his hands. He wants her so desperately that his hands begin to shake slightly as the silence grows between them.

"Just sex," she says, finally speaking. "That's all."

"That's all," he agrees and she nods once before pulling back and skating towards the edge of the pond. His brow furrows as his eyes follow her. "Where are you going?"

She glances back over her shoulder as she climbs back onto the snow covered earth and sits down on the bench, undoing her laces.

"To find a dark corner," she says, looking up at him. "Or were all those words just for dramatic effect?"

James is so taken aback that he slips as he tries to hurry forward and this time he isn't able to maintain his balance as he falls directly onto his arse.

* * *

 **THEA**

For the first time since first year, Thea rides the Hogwarts Express alone as she leaves for holiday break. It's by choice, of course, and despite several attempts to guilt her into sitting with a group of Hufflepuffs, she opts for the empty compartment at the end while Albus rides with Lysander.

Even Lucy Weasley is occupied with several students her own age and Thea is left to find a seat further down where Albus promises to check on her later. There are two third years in a compartment towards the end of the train and Thea gives them a simple glare that forces them from their seats where she can sit in peace.

Magnus is her only company, in the silent compartment, and she is briefly visited by the tea trolley where she collects a cup of Earl Grey. The tea warms her as she glances over the gala itinerary, eying every detail for the hundredth time. She scratches out the Minister for Magic. Her father's last letter mentioned receiving Mrs. Granger-Weasley's regrets after another attack in the city made her attendance impossible during the ongoing investigation. And she has to rearrange seating when she receives a late RSVP from the head of the Medical Research Committee from St. Mungos.

She's nearing the bottom of her tea when she hears the compartment door slide open and she doesn't look up when she simply says, "Keep moving."

"Can't even stop in to give your your Christmas gift?" a voice asks from the door and she glances up in surprise when she sees James.

He's wearing one of his lazy smirks and a grey jumper that suits him more than his school uniform. His hair is a mess but she decides that it suits him as well. She attempts not to remember their midnight tryst in the dark. She fails as she feels her thighs squeeze together, the images rushing back to her.

She clears her throat to bring her back to reality.

"It's not your penis, is it?" she asks and the corners of his lips curl at the ends.

For the first time she notices the small box in his hands, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He glances downwards briefly.

"No, that's still attached, I think," he says.

Magnus shifts at her side, taking notice of James and he stands and stretches as he lets out a long 'meow.' They both watch as he jumps down, prowling towards the door and rubbing against James' leg. James crouches down, chuckling, as he indulges the cat, petting his black fur. Magus' back arches and Thea shakes her head when she hears him pur.

"So what's this about a present?" she asks and James' attention turns from Magnus to her and he holds that package up again. "Any particular reason why?"

"I dunno, it's Christmas. Isn't that reason enough?" he replies.

He walks over then, letting the compartment door click as it closes on its own from behind him. He sits across from her, resting his elbows on his long legs as he leans in towards her and places the gift in her lap. She stares at it, her brow furrowed and mouth in a straight line.

"Not the usual reaction from someone being handed a present," he says. "It's not a big deal or anything."

"I just, I've never gotten a Christmas present before," she says, shrugging as she tows with the poorly tied twine bow. Magnus paws curiously at the wrapping.

"What do you mean you've 'never gotten a Christmas present?' As in, ever?" he asks and she nods.

"Not since I can remember at least," she tells him. "My family doesn't do Christmas gifts."

"That's...not what I would have expected," he admits.

"And what exactly _did_ you expect?" she asks, looking up at him from under her lashes, attempting to hide a smile. He rubs the back of his head, his messy curls bouncing.

"Dunno. Mounds and mounds of presents, I suppose," he tells her, laughing in attempt to hide his embarrassment.

She stares down at the gift again.

"I didn't get you anything," she tells him and his grin widens.

"That's ok. As I said, it's not really a big deal," says James and they both watch as Magnus toys with the twine, in his own world of entertainment. "Well? Go ahead it won't bite."

Thea tears at the paper slowly, loosening the adhesive on either side and he shakes his head at her methodology. She then pushes the paper aside, much to Magnus' amusement, and pulls the lid to the box open to find a pair of scarlet knit socks, well-crafted and warm against her skin. She holds them up, her eyebrow rising.

"You knit, Potter?"

"And why not?" he says with a chuckle, leaning back into the seat. "It's not so difficult. And anyways, I figured since it's clear you won't be giving me my jumper back any time soon, you might want a pair of those to match."

" _Your_ jumper?" she asks, eyes wide as she glances back down at the scarlet knitted thing and then back up to him.

He winks, standing from his place on the seat across from her and starting towards the door.

"Happy Christmas, Malfoy."

* * *

A/N: So I wanted to send a huge thank you to all of you who have followed, favorited and reviewed this story. I thoroughly enjoy writing it! You all give me so much motivation to continue and I'm so thankful every time I get one of those notifications. Love to you all! 


	13. Chapter 13 - M

**WARNING: Chapter rated M for Sexual Situations**

* * *

x

 **BURN**

Chapter Thirteen  
 _Sandwith Hall_

* * *

 **ROSE**

It's the day of the gala and Rose feels the rise of panic rise through her when she realizes she has nothing to wear. She also feels frustration at such a cliche notion, knowing she had picked out something weeks ago with her mother's help. But as she slips on the lavender gown she feels utterly underwhelmed. Her brother, Hugo, is sitting on her bed, trying desperately to time his rubik's cube solve under four minutes and he looks up only once to tell her she looks nice.

She doesn't want to look nice, she decides. She wants to look beautiful.

"You're not helping," she says with a frown, spinning slowly in front of the mirror and getting know

"I still don't know why you're going to this," he tells her. "Dad says the Malfoys…"

"Get your own opinion, Hugo," she says quickly in response. "You're old enough to make up your own mind about people."

Hugo's fingers pause on the colored cube and though he doesn't glance up, she knows her words were heard. She adjusts the straps slightly, magically altering the fit. She wonders what she was thinking when she picked the damned thing out. Her mother stops her busied steps in the doorway and smiles.

"Well, don't you look nice?" her mother says and she groans, stomping back into her closet.

"I don't want to look _nice_ ," she grumbles and her mother's brow furrows.

"You are beautiful. I thought you loved this dress?"

"Well now I don't," Rose replies, pushing through what few dresses she does own and noticing they are all woefully unacceptable for this event. "I can't breath in it. Can't we stop in London and return it before we go?"

Hermione's eyes fall slightly.

"Darling, I meant to tell you…" she starts and Rose shakes her head.

"Mum, no."

"I'm so sorry, love. But with everything going on at the Ministry, I simply cannot spare the time. I have to meet with the council. They'll have me there for hours. I'm not even sure I'll have a moment to come home over the next few days."

"Is it really so bad?" Rose asks, feeling slightly guilty at the thought of her previous ongoing tantrum. "Aren't there any leads?"

"None," Hermione replies. "None that seem promising, I should say. There are so many people who were involved in dark magic back then."

"Some of them, the ones who were killed," Rose says softly. "They were your friends?"

Hugo puts down the cube.

"Rose," he mutters and though their father asked them both not to mention it, she knows her mother is tired of holding it in. Hermione nods.

"Yes," she tells her. "Which makes my work that much more important. I'm afraid I won't be much of a helpful figure at Malfoy's gala in this state."

Rose nods.

"I understand," she tells her, mustering up her best smile to sell her words.

Hermione nods before walking out, smiling as she glances back over her shoulder at Rose's dress. Hugo follows her, rambling on about what he desperately wants for Christmas. Rose closes the door and sinks against it, feeling her nerves swell as she realizes she'll have to face the night alone.

Not alone, she remembers. Scorpius will be there. And James. And to some extent, she has Thea.

Thea, she thinks, glancing at the small fireplace in her room. She quickly flicks her wand to undo the ties of the dress and slips out of it. She pulls on a pair of jeans and a pastel jumper before she reaches the fireplace and opens the drawer on its side to reveal a pile of floo-powder. She sprinkles some lightly in as she whispers 'Sandwith Hall,' not even knowing who she'll reach if she tries it.

She can't simply floo into the Malfoy's home unannounced, even if she wanted to. But as she sticks her head through the green flame she sees the bustling of people weaving in and out of whichever room she's happened upon. She clears her throat though no one seems to notice.

"Pardon me," she says quietly and is promptly ignored by several people who pass. It is not until she's said it for the fourth time does someone notice her and it's a tall gentleman wearing dark robes but a warm expression.

"May I help you, madam?" his tone formal and she feels the heat rush to her cheeks.

"I uh, I am Rose Granger-Weasley," she manages and there is realization behind his eyes as his lips curve up at the edges.

"Are you looking for Master Scorpius, dear?" he says and she shakes her head suddenly.

"No, erm...that is, I'm looking for Theodora?" she tells him and he nods. "If she is available of course."

"Yes, right this way. I'm sure we can find her," he says and Rose steps through the floo, wiping her dust covered trousers. "I have heard a great deal about you, Miss."

"Oh?" she asks, her cheeks flushing pink and he flashes her a kind smile.

"Yes, they both speak highly of you. It is rare, you understand, that either talks much about their classmates. But I've received many letters about you since the beginning of term and I am happy to finally put a face to the name."

"I am sorry that I have not heard about you, then," she says, her voice small and the man lets out a small cuckle.

"Don't be," he says, his voice warm. "The Malfoys are private for good reason. I expect having you here for the gala must mean Master Scorpius is quite fond of you, indeed."

"But it was Theodora who invited me to the gala," she says and the man glances at her, a crook in his large brows. "Albeit, it was for a class project," she adds but the man only contemplates this further as they walk on.

They pass through a group of witches holding exquisite flower arrangements. They descend down into a more narrow corridor, dodging several more young men and women with various items in hand and determined expressions as they make their way upwards. Rose only just now decides to take in her surroundings and she's surprised at the simple beauty that is Sandwith Hall.

She's not sure what she expected, only that this isn't quite it.

They soon find the source of the flowers as they turn into a room she immediately realizes is the kitchens and a burst of laughter amongst the bustling staff comes from atop the butcher block countertops where Thea sits cross legged arranging flowers by hand in a tall vase.

Rose isn't familiar with the look on Thea's features because she's only ever seen the girl smiling in calculated spurts. This is something different entirely, she decides, and Rose admits to herself it is actually quite nice.

The chatter, she recognizes though she's quick to realize neither Thea nor the woman she is laughing with, are speaking english. The language is something Rose only barely recalls from the back of her mind when she remembers her Uncle Charlie. Romanian.

"Miss Theodora," the man says, interrupting the laughter and Thea glances up from the flowers. Her smile doesn't fade.

"Well you're a bit early, Rosie," she says and her eyes move over her briefly. "And a little underdressed. Patrick, the invitations did say formal, correct?"

The woman next to her says something in Romanian that Rose doesn't understand and shakes her finger at Thea before returning to the large pot, flicking her wand over it and the flames grow in size. She eyes Rose, however, and tries to hide a smile.

"She told me to stop teasing you, but where's the fun in that?" she asks and Patrick clears his throat to mask a laugh of his own. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I, well…" Rose isn't quite sure how to ask and she has yet again resorted to a number of awkward stammerings that she know causes Thea's impatience to rise. But instead the girl just waits, the woman next to her holding out a spoon and Thea dips her head to taste. Thea's eyes close and her smile morphs into something akin to pure pleasure. "I'm sorry to be here so early, I just had hoped you could help me with my dress," she says finally and Thea's eyes widen.

"Well this is certainly new," says the woman, her words thick with her accent but she gives a hearty laugh. "Go on then, take Miss Granger-Weasley upstairs. I can handle things here."

"Marta," says Thea, her voice low and the woman nudges her until she climbs off of the counter.

"Shoo."

For the first time Rose realizes Thea is wearing sweatpants. And no shoes, only socks.

Something is very strange about Sandwith Hall, Rose decides.

Thea only takes a moment to recover, linking her arm with Rose's and looks over her shoulder once at the woman called Marta. "Good help is hard to come by these days," she says and Marta only gives her a cheeky grin in return. "Thank you, Patrick."

"Yes, thank you, Patrick," Rose echoes and the man nods deeply.

"So," Thea says, guiding Rose back up the stairs she'd previously descended with Patrick. "What exactly is the issue you're having with the dress?"

"The issue is," Rose says. "I hate it."

"Hate?" Thea says. "Rose Granger-Weasley _hates_ something?"

"I picked it up in London weeks ago but, oh I don't know, it just doesn't suit me."

"I'm sure it suits you, everything suits you."

"I know it's presumptuous, but I had hoped maybe you had something I could borrow? I promise to be careful with it. And I can do my own mending to adjust it though we are close in size already."

"You are a bit taller," she says, glancing down at Rose's legs and nodding.

"I am just nervous and I'm sure you've heard my mum can't make it, and without her there…"

"Yes," Thea says, her playful small falling. "I had heard the unfortunate news. However, you'll be fine without her. You'll have Scorpius who will no doubt be fawning over you all evening. And James…" she pauses, her brow furrowing. "Well, I'm not sure if that's a consolation or a curse, but he'll be here as well."

"And you?" she asks. Thea leads them up another staircase, this one much larger.

"Yes, I suppose. If you want, that is."

Rose nods.

"Alright then, let's find you something to wear," Thea says as she pushes open the fourth door on the left as they round to the second floor of the manor.

Rose is once again surprised at the simplicity of the room which belongs to Thea Malfoy. It's welcoming, despite the deep green walls and moulding. The ceilings are high, like the rest of the house that she's seen, and Thea's aesthetic is so ethereal that Rose wonders if she even knows this girl at all.

Thea's bed is large but low and the headboard doubles as a shelf for an eclectic collection of large still photographs in black and white. Rose can see one of them is a woman, the details in her face eerily similar to Thea's.

"That's my mum," she says when she notices Rose's stare. "She was exquisite."

Rose can't disagree. Astoria Malfoy was, indeed, stunning.

"You look so much alike," Rose breathes and even smiles as she sees the delicate curve in the corners of the woman's mouth. "Except for maybe that," she teases and Thea chuckles.

Thea's room is a collection of beautiful photographs, a museum of landscapes and portraits. There is a vanity near the window and nudged into the corners of the frame is a picture of Thea and Albus. It's the only one because all the others are of Albus alone with various expressions, all of which capture a side of Albus which Rose has never been privy to. She can't decide if that makes her happy or sad.

"Did you take these?" Rose asks, pointing to a photo of Albus sleeping. He looks so soft that she thinks for a moment it could be James.

"I took _all_ of these," Thea says offhandedly. "Except the one of my mum. Papa took that one."

"All of these?" Rose says, her mind reeling. "Thea, these are…"

"I thought you were here to talk about you?" Thea replies, opening the double doors to a smaller room attached.

Rose is about to reply but is too distracted by the room in question. She steps in, her eyes wide as she takes in the room that is clearly Theodora's closet. It's not too large, but a row of gowns at the back draws Rose in and she can't look away.

"Choose whatever you'd like," Thea says, leaving Rose in the closet alone. "Just, not the red one," she calls out from her bed and Rose glances back to see her lying on her stomach, a book in one hand, a red lollie in the other.

Rose isn't even sure where to start, when she glances back at the gowns of laces, silks, and tulles. Her hand grazes each one in wonder.

"I have a feeling you'd look great in blue."

* * *

 **THEA**

"They are coming here to see you, Papa," Thea says towards the fireplace where her father's image wavers in the flames. "It's the _only_ reason we invited them in the first place."

"I'm sorry, darling. I am," her father replies, his voice sincere. "This can't be helped. I have to finish this one thing before I come back for the gala."

She tries not to show her disappointment as she nods, knowing very well what is keeping her father but chooses not to mention it with her brother in the room.

"Just...do please be sure to get back here on time. You can't be late," she reminds him and he nods. "And what are we supposed to do with those two?" she asks. "It's not like you'll have much time to talk with them tonight. This event is too important."

"Then we'll have them stay and have brunch in the morning."

"Stay?" Thea sputters. "As in, stay the night? This isn't an bed and breakfast, Papa. Be serious." She glances back at Scorpius who is standing with his arms crossed some distance away. "Scorpius, a little help? Mr. Weasley isn't going to let his daughter have a sleepover with her boyfriend right down the hall."

Scorpius doesn't budge nor does he look interested in arguing for either side.

"I'll speak with Weasley and Potter. We have two perfectly capable guest rooms. It will be fine," he says but Thea is still shaking her head. "Now, I'm sorry. I must go. Everything will be fine. I promise."

He's gone after Thea sighs and she turns to her brother who simply shugs.

"I don't know what you expected."

"Oh stop pouting, Scorpius. You don't even care."

"Of course I care," Scorpius argues. "You think I want to deal with you and James in the same room as one another for longer than I have to?"

"That...won't be a problem," she says quicker than she means. "Go tell Marta to cancel tea, will you? I have to finish up in the gardens."

"You tell her," he argues and she sends him a glare. "Fine, I'll tell her."

She doesn't waste time in pushing past him and he grumbles something under his breath as she goes. Her footsteps are quick, echoing through the foyer as she walks. Tonight the house will be simple and elegant. Tomorrow it will look like Christmas time. She loves Sandwith Hall at Christmas.

She gives a quick flick of her wand to accio her coat and she hears a small click as the closet opens and closes from across the room. She pulls on the sleeves, looking down as one of her arms gets caught. She doesn't notice the body rounding the corner until she's nearly run right into it. His hands stop her, however, and she looks up to see James, a bright smile on his face as he stares down at her with brown eyes. She isn't quick enough to stop her own smile from creeping over her lips and she clears her throat in attempt to hide it.

"You're early," she says quickly and his brow arches slightly.

"Scorpius said tea was at half past," he says, his hands still on her waist and the footsteps of several of the event staff cause her to take a step back.

"Yes, well my father only just informed us that he was going to be late. He said he'd talk to your parents about…" she pauses, wondering if it is such a horrible idea after all. "About you staying the night and having brunch with us in the morning."

They both go silent as people pass and they each nod with kind smiles as they see James. When they are once again alone, one of them or both take a step closer. She's so close she notices that he's shaved. His clothes are pressed and somehow he's managed to tame his usually messy hair. She can't decide if she likes this version of him but the mischievous grin reminds her he's still the same.

"A slumber party?" he asks, his grin widening. "Do I get to sleep in your room?"

She feels the flush before she can hide it, the heat rising in her cheeks, and he leans in as his fingers brush her lips. This is a very bad idea, she thinks, when his lips rest lightly over hers. Her stomach dances and her fingers slither up to his tidy hair as if it were muscle memory.

"Theodora, is that you?" Scorpius calls from upstairs and she pushes James away so quickly he hits the wall with a gentle thud. She mouths a quick apology as she wipes her mouth and realizes Scorpius can't see them from where he is standing

"Yes, what is it? I'm busy," she shouts, her lazy drawl spilling out with ease. James bites his lip to keep from snickering.

"Marta said Rose was here earlier," he says from the stairwell and she pushes James gently out of view. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asks.

"Because she wasn't here to see you," she replies. "She was here to see me." Scorpius frowns as she looks up at him expectantly. "Was there anything else?"

Scorpius contemplates this for several moments before starting back upstairs. He shouts out behind him, "Get your stupid cat out of my room. He's shedding on my dress robes."

"Magnus isn't stupid and you know I don't control him, it's very much the other way around," she shouts after him. Somewhere upstairs Marta shouts at them to quit arguing.

It's once they're both out of earshot that she grabs James' hand and pulls him down the hall where they duck into the nearest room. It's a small cupboard but the ceiling is tall enough that James doesn't have to duck. She wastes no time in pulling him towards her and sighs when his lips meet hers again.

He's laughing against her mouth, at her eagerness perhaps, but she is used to having him on a more frequent basis and it's been a week since she's touched him and he smells like heaven so she doesn't stop.

"I thought you were busy," he manages as he comes up for air and she feels his hands travel down towards her backside and she squeals slightly when he lifts her off the ground.

Her legs wrap around his waist and this time it's him sighing, or groaning against her lips and she's the one laughing.

"Shut up," she whispers, rolling her hips against his.

She should be working, she reminds herself. Or rather, she tries to remind herself but she's distracted by his mouth and his hands on her thighs and if it weren't for this blasted gala she could take her time, savor every curve of his muscles. In the back of her mind, she's thanking Merlin for quidditch.

"Wait a second," he says, pulling her out of her lust-filled haze. "Is this...a broom cupboard?" he asks and her eyes snap open.

"No," she lies and he looks around and then behind him where he sees a broom and laughs.

"Looks like a broom cupboard to me, love," he says and she caught off balance by his attempts to joke with her and his casual use of a term of endearment and it sobers her.

She lets a frown set in on her lips, her legs falling and he doesn't let her go even as her feet touch the floor.

"Oh, what's the matter? You can tease me, but I can't tease you?" he asks and she shrugs.

"That's right, Potter," she says, reaching for the door and he places her hand over hers.

"Potter? Oh come off it. I'm only joking."

"Joke or not, you were right. I _am_ busy. I have loads of work to do."

She brushes his hand away and turns the door knob, pushing her way out into the corridor. She hears footsteps and closes it immediately behind her when she spots Patrick.

"Madam?" he says, stopping in front of her and pointing at the closet.

"Hello, Patrick, Darling."

"Were you...just in the broom cupboard?" he asks, his eyes staring at the door and she glances back at it nervously to make sure she closed it completely and she musters a laugh.

"No...I mean yes, obviously, but I was just...I couldn't find my…..riding boots for tomorrow."

"Are they not in the mud room?"

"Well, I thought perhaps someone had moved them since so many people are here, running about. I just thought I'd take a peak."

"I can go check…."

"No, no it's fine. I just, I'm going out to the gardens anyways so I'll check while I'm there."

Patrick just stares, his eyes narrowing.

"Are you, feeling alright? Should I have Madame Herwyn stop by before the gala?"

"No, I'm fine. Really. Just, nervous. It's all just nerves."

Patrick's suspicious eyes soften and he places his hands on her shoulders.

"It will be lovely. Not to worry."

She gives him her best smile, which is weaker than usual because her heart is pounding and James is in the broom cupboard and she doesn't know what she'll say if Patrick opens the door to find him standing there with his tousled hair and untucked dress shirt.

But he doesn't. He just carries on with his usual business and Thea once again waits until the sound of steps has disappeared before opening the closet door. James is standing there, arms crossed over his chest with a stupid grin.

"Honestly, Theodora, it's like you're embarrassed of me," he says, his voice laced with mock hurt and she rolls her eyes.

"On the contrary, I'm embarrassed _for_ you," she says boredly. "Now get out of my house and don't come back without dress robes and an overnight bag."

He steps out, walking towards her and he kisses her cheek.

"Don't miss me too much."

" _That_ won't be a problem," she says, crossing her arms and he flashes her one of those smiles that makes her shift as she watches him leave.

Something is strange, she thinks. She watches him walk away and she feels a sudden pull at her chest but she can't be sure why. When he disappears around the corner, back towards the drawing room floo ,she assumes, she feels the tugging grow.

She clears her throat to rid herself the tugging and makes her way towards the back of the house towards the gardens, pretending that missing him isn't a problem at all. Just as she'd said.

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

Straight O's in all of his classes and yet Scorpius Malfoy has never been able to perfect the spell used for tying a tie.

He's been standing in front of the mirror for fifteen minutes trying to master it and yet it still hangs crooked. He sighs, rubbing his face as he attempts to remain composed but he is dangerously close to throwing it across the room if he can't figure it out soon. Magnus sits on his bed, watching with his bright yellow eyes and Scorpius feels as though he's being taunted.

He jumps slightly when he hears a knock at his door.

"Scorpius?" he hears, recognizing his sister's voice and glances down at his pocket watch to realize it is nearly time for everything to begin.

""Come in," he says clearly and returns to his concentration to the task at hand.

It fails again.

"Here, let me," says Thea and Scorpius looks up in the mirror to see her approaching. His eyes widen.

"Is that…" he starts, turning around to take in the sight of the red dress that hangs off of her shoulders. "You look like Mama," is all he can say and she nods.

"I thought it was only right," she said without smiling.

She takes hold of the tie and starts adjusting it, looping it, by hand. He lets her work on it as he looks over her features. The resemblance is strange, so uncanny that he feels an ache in his heart as he watches her.

He remembers their mother in this dress. It was another fundraiser, another cause. Scorpius had been young, only seven or eight, and he was holding Thea's hand. Their mother was being strong for the family but he could see the heartbreak in her eyes.

It was the year his older brother Cygnus had died, he recalls. Thea was inconsolable, even then. It's the last time he remembers her crying. If she's cried since, he hasn't seen it. He thinks for a moment maybe she's more like their mother than he'd previously given her credit for. Their mother was strong. Despite Thea's poor reasoning, he thinks perhaps she is too.

"There," she whispers, looking up at him and his eyes meet hers and he thinks maybe she feels the ache as well. "You look dashing, brother mine."

His lips tug at the edges.

"There you are." Both Scorpius and Thea turn towards the door to find their father. He's clad in fine dress robes, black and simple. "I've been looking for you both everywhere."

"I told Patrick I was coming to fetch Scorpius and that we'd be right down," says Thea, hooking her arm around Scorpius' and walking them both towards the door.

"Theodora you look…" their father starts and she laughs.

"I know," she says quickly. "Tonight is about her. I wanted to carry a piece of her with me."

Draco looks like Scorpius feels and the man can only nod as he places one hand gently against his daughter's cheek, and on on his son's shoulder. Scorpius glances at him, a lump growing in his throat and Scorpius places his own hand over his father's as well.

"She would be proud of you both. As, proud as I am," he says through a strained voice and Scorpius takes a deep breath, one that shakes as he lets it go.

"This is far too sentimental for us," Thea whispers, clearing her throat. "We should go." Both Scorpius and his father nod at the same time as Thea hooks her arm around both of them.

The garden is crowded with the clammer of a lively party when they arrive. Thanks to Thea's charms it is a comfortable temperature, allowing them to stand out under the night sky as snow dusts the parameter. It's a beautiful scene and he's impressed with the simplicity that is the natural decor only aided by the dangling of floating lights above them.

He recognizes only some of the faces in the crowd. His father has invited a breadth of high wizarding society, those with the influence and pockets to truly make a difference where he needs it. Thea was right, this event is about their mother. About a number of cases like hers in which magic has no answers. Not yet.

One face in particular stands out, and Scorpius stoic expression does not stand a chance as her eyes meet his. Rose Granger-Weasley stands out in the ground, her auburn hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck whilst the rest of her glows in a pale shade of blue lace and tulle. She's beaming despite that he can see her chewing the inside of her cheek.

He leaves before he's swarmed by potential donors and walks over to where she stands with James and, to his surprise, Alec Zabini. He's at her side in just a few long strides and he grasps her hand in his, his heart racing.

"You look lovely," she says before he can and he chuckles, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"You stole my line," he tells her and her cheeks are a deeper shade of red. It suits her.

"This, all of this, it's incredible," she says.

"My sister certainly knows how to make an impression," he agrees.

"Your home really is beautiful. I thought maybe I would find it intimidating but there is something so warm about it," she says, her fingers intertwining with his.

"I heard you made an appearance earlier," he tells her.

"I know, I'm sorry I didn't stop by to say hello. Once I found Thea, she kind of hogged all of my attention," says Rose, pulling at the sides of her gown and shrugging. "Courtesy of her wardrobe, you see."

"Strange," he says, a playful arch in his brow. "My sister isn't overly fond of blue."

"So I noticed," Rose says, glancing over at Thea who tries to garner the attention of the crowd. "For a Slytherin, your sister certainly has her fair share of red in her closet."

Scorpius pulls her closer, glancing over Rose's features as she attempts to listen to Thea's speech. He's pleased to see her fighting back a smile as she eyes him periodically. Thea's speech is fairly short and he thinks he spots even James laughing at several of her well-timed spurts of wit. But it comes from the heart, something Thea shows to very few.

"You don't have to say anything?" Rose whispers and he shakes his head.

"That is Theodora's specialty, not mine," he explains. "She has a flair for the dramatics that I never inherited. You might have noticed?"

"Hard to miss," Rose replies and immediately joins in with the crowd clapping around them.

The crowd starts to disperse, champagne glasses in hand as they make their way inside in accordance with Theodora's itinerary for the evening. Dancing takes place in the ballroom whilst the silent auction occurs in the adjacent study. Rose must not have seen the ballroom when she came wandering into Sandwith because the moment they entire, she looks around in awe.

It's small for a ballroom, but more ornate than the rest of the house which is perhaps what Rose had been expecting all along. The oval room is tall, the cupula drowning in gold details from the top of the moulding to it's apex. His mother had loved greek architecture and designed the room with a Neoclassical eye. A chandelier dangled in the center, burning bright with the glow of numerous candles.

"What do you even do with a room like this when there isn't a gala to host?" James jokes from nearby and Rose gently swats him in the shoulder.

"I uh, practice my music in here. It has the best acoustics in the entire house," he explains and Rose glances up at him, mouth open.

"You play music?" she asks.

"Occasionally," he says, shaking his head. "Just the violin. More for the hell of it than anything."

"I'd love to hear you play," she says, her eyes flicking towards where several couples are beginning to dance.

"Then I'll play for you," he says, his voice low.

"Now?" she asks, her brow rising and he laughs.

"No, not now. Now...we dance," he says, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

"Oh, I don't think I can…"

"Just trust me," he whispers.

She does.

The room spins as they do, music and laughter echo around them. Every time they make a full rotation of the dance floor he sees his sister talking to someone else. One moment it's the head of magical medicine at St. Mungo's, the next she is twirling their youngest cousin Beatrice who is only eight.

Rose is engulfed in the joy of the evening and even decides to bid on a rare book about ancient runes on display in the study. Scorpius watches her childlike amusement with the books that line his father's shelves. He has a sneaking suspicion she doesn't drink much champagne when he notices her giggling as she finishes her first glass.

James and Alec are currently preoccupied by Grandfather Greengrass's collection of antique brooms, specifically the one owned by renowned quidditch chaser Bayard Alchin. He can hear them arguing over which one of them will get it, though he thinks James is fighting a losing battle with Zabini.

He and Rose separate themselves from the festivities as they wander the back out into the gardens. The lights above still sparkle and they stand just near the edge of the charmed barrier to watch the snow.

"I just noticed," Rose says, beaming in the haze of a champagne buzz and he chuckles. "Your house doesn't have any Christmas decorations. Don't the Malfoys celebrate Christmas?"

"We do," he tells her. "No doubt the tree will be set up before breakfast."

"And piles of presents beneath it?" she asks and he shakes his head as he pulls her towards him, kissing her forehead.

"None, in fact. At least not for us. Thea and I do like to find something special for the staff."

"No presents?" she asks.

"Well, we usually spend Christmas abroad. Ever since we were children, my mum would wake us up on Christmas morning and we'd spin the globe in Father's study. Wherever her finger landed, we'd go. It was a Christmas surprise."

"Every Christmas?" she asks and he nods. "I've hardly been out of England and you've traveled the world. Where is your favorite?"

"My favorite?" he asks, a question he's never really considered as he thinks back to last Christmas, then the Christmas before. And then he remembers. "India, seven years ago. It was my first year at Hogwarts and I had been missing my family. I saw an Occamy for the first time and Thea rode on a flying carpet. It's where my she found Magnus."

"The cat?" she says and he nods.

"The bugger was stranded on a riverbank in Kerala."

"India," Rose echoes. "It sounds lovely."

"It is. You should visit."

"No." She smiles when she corrects him. " _We_ should."

* * *

 **JAMES**

He shouldn't be here.

This part of the house is not part of the gala but he feels slightly out of place and so he can't help his curiosity as he inspects the Malfoy's home. Sandwith Hall is not quite a house but still it isn't quite what he expected and he's starting to wonder why all of his assumptions about the Malfoys are turning out to be wrong.

He ends up somewhat hidden in the shadows next to a large family portrait of the Malfoys on the second floor. It distracts him, the detail, the woman in the center with long brown hair hung delicately over her shoulder. James only barely remembers Mrs. Malfoy but seeing her now, like this, makes him see Thea in the woman's features. In the portrait, Thea is quite young, more small and delicate than he could have ever perceived.

But it's not Astoria's beauty nor Thea's childlike smile that has him intrigued, it's the boy who stands next to his father, holding Thea's hand in his own. He sees Scorpius, standing next to his mother, his hand on her shoulder. But this boy, this is not Scorpius. His hair is somewhere between flaxen and brown, and he thinks, trying desperately to remember if either Malfoy has ever mentioned having a brother.

Voices interrupt his thoughts and he doesn't mean to eavesdrop, though it is very much a wrong time wrong place situation. They're arguing, he realizes but not loudly and neither seems particularly angry. It's only a moment as they come into earshot when he realizes the first voice belongs to Thea.

"You can't do this to him," she says. "Papa, it's the one thing…"

"Believe me, I know. But I have to do this. If the archives have the answer, this could be a real breakthrough," says the second voice, belonging to Draco.

"But it's Christmas," she tells him and she can hear him sigh. "We just want to be with you. Nothing else is more important than that."

"This is your life, Theodora!" he says, his voice hard and something breaks at the end. "Your life. That's important too."

There is a long silence and James feels his brow creased as the words hit him. He's not certain what they mean, only that there is real weight in the tension hanging in the air and it leaves an unsettling feeling deep inside of him.

"What's going on?" another voice asks. Scorpius.

"Nothing," Thea says with the same ease he's heard a hundred times and her ability to sound nonchalant is impressive. He almost believes it. "Have the guests all left?"

"Only the the Laurents are still here, they wanted a word with Father and I before they go."

"Go ahead," she says to her father. "I'll be down shortly to oversee the..."

"Get some rest," he interrupts. "You've done enough for tonight."

James jolts quickly. The last thing he wants is Thea to find him standing there and so he fumbles backwards, desperate for a place to hide. The first one he tries is locked but his whispers a quick, "Alohamora," and he's in.

His heart is pounding as he waits, stepping slowly backwards as he locks the door and just when he thinks he's evaded her, he hears the damned thing click once again. It's Thea who jumps now, seeing him standing there and she places her hand over her heart as she leans back against the door.

"Christ, Potter!" she says in an alarmed whisper. "What the fuck?!"

"Sorry, I was just…."

"Snooping in my bedroom?" she filled in for him, her voice rising slightly and his brows creased as he looked around the dim room, drenched in candlelight.

"This…" he starts, taking in the space around him. "This is your room?"

"Whose else would it be?" she asked, her irritated frown deepening as she motioned towards the room.

"I'm sorry," he says again, this time his voice steady as he steps forward. "I was bored, so I came upstairs, I was looking at all the family portraits and I saw you and your dad. I didn't want you to think I was eavesdropping so I popped in the first door I could find."

"It was locked," she says, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, I happen to know magic so…"

She tries not to acknowledge the joke, determination in her features and he keeps stepping forward until he's looking down at her. She's not as small as usually and he suspects it has something to do with the heels. He's cautious as he moves his hands from his side, sliding his wand back into his dress robes and then placing his hands on either side of her arms.

"You ok?" he asks and her suspicious frown turns into one of annoyance.

"Why, don't I look fine?" she asks, pushing past him towards her bed where she places her bag.

"You look, beautiful, actually," he says, his voice softer than he intends. He's certain he meant for it to sound inviting but it's so soft he thinks it sounds dangerously close to something he'd rather not consider.

She glances over her shoulder, that bare shoulder with milky white flesh that now glows in the warm candlelight and his heartbeat quickens for a different reason.

"You're acting strange."

He knows that. He knows he's been strange, partly because of that damned bare shoulder and those eyes and he remembers the broom cupboard earlier and how she smiled. A real smile full of something other than sarcasm.

"How so?" he asks, stepping forward until he can feel the heat of her body once more and she looks him over but doesn't meet his eyes. She's avoiding his eyes, avoiding them because maybe she knows something he doesn't.

"Just, not yourself," she whispers but her voice shakes and she turns back to the bed, busying herself with that bag of hers again and he places his hands on her shoulders.

Her hands slow whatever pretense of searching they are occupied with until they come to a complete halt and he leans forward, placing his lips on her neck. Gooseflesh appears when his lips brush gently down towards her shoulder and there is a sudden change in her breathing when his hands snake slowly around her waist, over the silk of her gown.

"I wasn't bored," he admits, his hand tracing over her hip and he feels his chest swell when she leans back into him. "I was looking for you."

"I've been busy," she says, her eyes still closed and he pushes hair from her face as he pulls her gently against him. The feeling of her body makes him feel strangely at ease.

Strange. It's there again, the strangeness.

"The event was great," he tells her and he means it because despite feeling out of place, he certainly enjoyed it more than he thought he would.

"It was a disaster," she says and it's the sound in her voice causes his movements to pause.

He turns her slowly, easing her down so that she's sitting on the bed and he crouches down so that she's the one staring down at him.

"Why would you say that?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"It doesn't matter, any of it. No matter what we do, they'll always see us…." she stops. She doesn't have to finish her sentence for him to realize what she's going on about, but he doesn't see the correlation between the public view of the Malfoys and the success of her well-planned gala. "A third of the guests couldn't even bother to show their faces."

James lifts the silk hem of her gown, taking her left foot in his hand and he unbuckles the strap of her heels. He does the same for the right, sliding both of the pointed shoes across the floor. He touches her feet, her calves, sliding his hands up until he reaches her knees and lets his fingers caress behind them and she squirms, suppressing a giggle.

"All I heard, were all the people raving about the event and how Miss Malfoy was….and listen carefully because you won't hear me saying this ever again...how Miss Malfoy was 'a brilliant technician of beauty and'...what was it...taste?"

"They did not say that," she says quickly, pushing his shoulder but he doesn't budge.

"I swear, it's the truth. People, frankly, wouldn't shut up about it."

"Now you really _are_ getting on my nerves," she says but this time there is a smile in her hazel eyes that meet his and she lets her fingers find neatly combed ends of his hair.

She pushes her fingers through them, releasing the wild curls he'd worked so hard to tame - per his mother's request. He felt lulled by the feeling of her nails gently brushing over his skin and he placed his head on her lap. They sit there in silence though something about this intimacy speaks volumes. James is certain he could stay like this for hours if she'd asked.

Eventually, however, she stands, and asks him to unzip the back of her dress. The red silk falls to the ground in a soft lump and despite the beauty of Thea Malfoy in black lace knickers, he can't break their gaze as she looks up into his eyes. He can't tell if it's a plea or a dare, but he lifts her, as gently as he can manage and lays her down on the green duvet.

With his body pressed against hers, he's certain she can feel his heart pounding out of his chest. But he can't look away as she brushes a stray strand of hair from over his eyes. His own fingers trace her bottom lip, watching her watch him with an intensity that grows between them.

"Stay," she says but it's so soft he's certain he's imagined it and he swallows hard, cupping her face in his hands as he places his forehead to hers. His eyes are closed when he hears it again. "Stay with me tonight."

He shouldn't, he thinks, but there is no denying Thea Malfoy a request. He knows that now. It's not whether he should that halts his movements, it's that he is happy to oblige her. He says he shouldn't but nowhere does he feel the barrier of reservations in his mind and that is what terrifies him. And yet, he sits up, pulling off his jacket and she lies there, watching him as he removes piece by piece of his dress robes and they fall in quiet thuds somewhere amongst hers.

When he tries to crawl back over her she shakes her head, pointing at his boxer briefs and then to the ground and somewhere between the two he feels himself harden. He decides to even the odds as she eyes the length of him, greedily watching as he lowers himself back onto the bed. He hovers over her, hooking his fingers beneath the black lace of her knickers and sliding them down her legs as slowly.

What is meant to be torture for her only causes his cock to ache even more at the sight of her as her thighs spread. She pulls away her bra with impressive ease and he is drunk in the sight of her splayed out for him, her breasts peaked in her own arousal. He wants her, his mind screams, he wants to be inside of her, feeling every inch of her tightening and thrusting.

But instead, he lowers himself further and there is genuine curiosity in her eyes when he kisses the inside of her thighs. But he smirks at the sound that escapes her throat when he places his lips against her center. His hands shake as he tastes her, pulling her closer so that he feels her wetness against his mouth and he only pauses once when he feels the strain inside his own arousal pulsing.

Her fingers are back in his hair, tangled in his curls, only this time they aren't gentle. This time she pulls as she writhes beneath him, beneath his tongue as he savers the taste of her and the sound of her muffled whimpers. She tastes like heaven, like a paradise he would happily drown in.

He glances up, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly in rhythm with his own heartbeat that is now clawing out of his chest. Her hips buck and her nails rake and he doesn't know how he manages to bring her to climax without doing so himself, but her strangled cry tells him when she's found her release.

He can still taste her in his mouth, her juices still on his tongue, as he moves next to her, sitting up against her short headboard as he watches her revel in the aftershocks of her orgasm. It's intoxicating, the sounds she makes, the small cries and sighs of pleasure and with just the whisper of what's left in her, it's enough that he could burst.

It takes only a moment for her to turn to her side and she looks up at him and it's not just pleasure in her eyes, it's fire. She's burning for more.

She crawls over him, one leg on either side of him as she still fights to catch her breath and James feels his labored breaths as he tries to calm his racing heart. She's sitting on his lap, her swollen clit grazing the base of his shaft and he closes his eyes, willing himself not to come.

He's mortified, completely terrified, of what might happen if she were to simply roll her hips.

She doesn't give him much time to revel on the border between misery and bliss. When his eyes meet hers, she leans in, her lips slowly meeting his own and his breaths are staggered as her tongue makes its way into his mouth, intertwined with the taste of her mouth and the taste of her pussy and the fact that she doesn't seem to mind makes the grip on her tighten.

Her fingers startle him as they snake slowly around his cock and he brings his hand swiftly against hers to stop whatever she's planned next.

"Thea," he says and it's a cry, a plead and she smiles down at him. "Baby, I can't…I'll..." he says and if it was possible for his cheeks to flush in that moment, he's sure they would have.

"Shh," she hushes, placing her fingers over his lips and she leans in her breasts against his chest and whatever lipstick is left on her lips, brushes against his ear. "I need you inside of me, Jamie."

There's no denying Thea Malfoy, his mind whispers again, and his eyes are closed when he nods and she brushes her lips just barely over his as she sits back up and slowly lowers herself down onto him until she's so full of him that the sigh they both emit is half relief and half agony for more.

By some miracle he lasts long enough to open his eyes.

There is something different about being inside of Thea when she looks at him this way. It's not the same lust-driven hunger he's seen before when he has pushed himself between her thighs. This time, as she leans into him, his hands now gripping body close, her lips brushing over his as she tightens around him, she doesn't look lost in the ecstacy of a climax she has so frequently sought out 'against her better judgement.'

This time she looks lost in him. This time, they sit there, unmoving as they stare into each other's souls, holding one another as they tow the line between a world they've always known and something neither one may be ready to define.

But as she begins moving, her eyes still locked on his, they both tredge bravely into this new territory.


	14. Chapter 14

**BURN**

Chapter Fourteen:

 _The More the Merrier_

* * *

 **JAMES**

It is exactly two days before Christmas and despite the chill outside and the snow-covered ground, James is warm as he wakes, blinking at the sunlight that dances over his eyelids.

It takes him a moment to register where he is as his eyes adjust to the light piercing through the drapes. He's surrounded by green walls and gold accents, half naked in large bed, soft white sheets covering the bottom half of him. He remembers Thea as the scent of her perfume lingers on the sheets, but when he glances to his left, he sees the space is empty and cold save for a note and a small motionless photograph.

" _Looks like I finally got you to shut up_ ," the note says, followed by, " _Brunch is at ten. xThea"_

He glances back at the poloroid in his hand, realizing it's of him. He's sleeping, looking more peaceful than he's felt in quite some time.

It's then that he realizes, his picture is just one of many in this room. He spots the others as he stands and rubs his face. The walls are of her bedroom are filled with photographs. He walks towards the walls, inspecting each of the pictures that fill the thin gold frames in various sizes.

It's strange, seeing each picture, the angles and perspective in which they are taken. There are small remnants of familiarity, a quick shadow of something he swears he's seen before but then it's gone. It's not until he reaches a picture at the easternmost window, hung in the frame with a thick matting that makes the picture at its center no bigger than his palm.

It's hands, hands he knows, the fingers to be precise. He knows the tattooed fingers and the lighter half open between them and he glances back at the previous pictures around the room. They're hers, all of them, he realizes. Bas's fingers, Albus' silhouette, Scorpius' half smile. Each picture is someone or some place he's seen before.

He remembers her standing in the rain, drenched from head to toe, on the quidditch pitch as she held her hands out, forming a strange rectangle as she glanced through them in his direction. Again, at the All Hallows Eve party in the dungeons. He'd been laughing, drunk off of firewhiskey and high on her energy as she'd watched him from behind the rectangular shape of her fingers and he understands it all now.

For a brief moment in time he can see a hint of Thea's perspective.

On her vanity is a line of lipsticks, organized in a brass holder for six. Each one is a darker shade of red and he pulls one out, remembering this distinct color and when he'd seen her wearing it last. Next to the lipstick is a stack of three books. The first is a book on wild herbs and their uses, the second is a collection of sonnets by the wizard, William Shakespeare. The third, he realizes, is a muggle book. A book he's seen his mother read but he has never read himself.

 _Frankenstein_ is worn and in delicate shape, he notices when he picks it up and flips through the pages. Inside are Thea's distinct looped letters and passages here and there are underlined in black ink. He pauses at one, his brow furrowing at the words.

" _Satan had his companions, fellow devils, to admire and encourage him, but I am solitary and abhorred_ _."_

James looks up from the words, frowning as he glances over his shoulder where Thea slept in his arms the night before. Why she has this passage underlined, he doesn't know. But it makes him think back to the night before and the words shared between her and her father.

He thought maybe he finally knew her, or was starting to understand the mysterious woman behind the cloaked exterior she presented to the world. In the span of a few hushed words in the dark it fell apart. This page full of somber scenes and her father's hurried whispers make him wonder if he's only been seeing just another incomplete version of Thea, constructed for him alone.

It shouldn't worry him but it does. And he can't admit to himself why.

He buttons his shirt slowly, his eyes lingering on the photos on her walls and he sees one in particular that pauses his fingers. It's a small photo she hasn't even bothered to frame. It sits tucked into the corner of a framed photo of a place in the city he can almost recognize. It's of her and Albus, taken in what looks to be a muggle photobooth.

It's her smile that draws his attention, the smile he's grown so fond of and for a moment he thinks perhaps he knows what it is inside of him that he again refuses to acknowledge.

And he feels that soon, it will be too hard to ignore.

The sound of laughter pulls his attention to the door. James places the picture of him inside the book filled with her scribbles, deciding to let her keep the damned thing. He pockets the note in his trousers.

He finds his guest rooms down the hall, the laughter growing as he sneaks past the staircase and once again near the large painting of the Malfoys and their three children. He's surprised as he walks through the double doors and finds his clothes neatly folded on the untouched white linen comforter. Another handwritten note sits atop his scarlet red jumper. Thea's handwriting again loops prettily in black ink.

" _I figured you'd want this back_ ," says the note.

It's signed " _xThea_ ," and and James reads it again as he traces his fingers over the soft knitting. He isn't wearing it, however, when he finally emerges from the room. He likes image of Thea wearing it too much to reclaim it and decides to leave it behind. He descends the stairs to more laughter and his brow furrows at the sight that meets him at the bottom of the steps.

The source of the laughter, he realizes, comes from the Malfoy siblings. Scorpius and Thea interact so infrequently at school, that when he sees Thea atop her brother's shoulders, he thinks perhaps he's entered some sort of parallel universe. Scorpius wavers slightly and Thea tries to scold him for moving. She tries to hang an ornament on the large tree but she only laughs and squeezes his hands to keep from falling. Patrick is there as well, helping to decorate and James smiles at the man's tie and pressed trousers, seemingly formal next to the Malfoys who are still clad in pajamas.

Marta's voice startles him from across the room and she's shouting out something in Romanian but even the woman can barely stop herself from smiling as Thea replies back, some witty reply in the woman's language. It rolls smoothly off of her tongue.

"Good Morning, Master James," Patrick says, bowing his head slightly. James isn't sure how to respond and just runs his hands through is hair anxiously as he nods and replies in turn.

Thea turns quickly, to see where he's entered the room and she is still smiling as she motions for her brother to let her down.

"You haven't even reached the top yet," Scorpius complains. "Look there, the entire top left is bare." Thea lazily flicks her wand to towards the tree without breaking eye contact with James. Scorpius groans. "No magic, Thea."

"Don't get your wand in a knot, Scorpius," she teases. "It's a handful of ornaments."

"But it's a tradition," a voice says, climbing the steps from the foyer.

"Papa, you're awake," Thea says, her voice light.

Scorpius stiffens slightly but he too has his eyes trained on their father. Draco Malfoy looks tired, more so than he had in the shadows with Thea the night before.

"And you're underdressed, aren't you?" he asks, looking to both of his children still in pajamas. James tries not to wonder why exactly she'd bothered putting them on since the last time he saw her she was wrapped beneath him wearing nothing at all.

"It's early still," Thea says, narrowing her eyes at her father. "Formal attire is not necessary for brunch. Clearly Potter would feel a bit underdressed for such an occasion if that were the case."

"Behave, Theodora," Draco warns with a sparkle in his eye. It's clear the warning is half-hearted.

"Scorpius and I will be dressed shortly. Marta said that brunch is nearly ready."

"And where will we be eating this morning?" Draco asks. Thea turns back to the tree without an answer, nudging her brother out of the way with a slight bump of her hips.

"The greenhouse, sir," Patrick says.

James notices both Draco and Scorpius glance at Thea who doesn't bother to meet either of their gazes in return. A yuletide record plays somewhere in the background but there is silence where there was once laughter as Thea once again busies herself with the tree. At the hearth, Marta stokes the yule log but she too has her eyes on Thea. James begins to wonder what is so sensational about having brunch in the greenhouse.

Draco interrupts the silence by clearing his throat and he glances down at his pocket watch briefly before turning to James.

"Very well," he says, his voice cautious. "Mr. Potter," It's clear there is some attempt at sounding welcoming but the stiffness in the sound of his name is apparent. "Shall I show you to the greenhouse?" he asks and James knows that even if he did mind, there would be no escaping it so simply nods.

"Of course, sir," he says politely and Draco motions through the large archway.

James follows, glancing over his shoulder only once to see Thea look up quickly from behind the tree. He gives her a wink before placing his hands in his pockets and following Draco out of the room.

"I apologize for dragging you away from the festivities," says Draco. "Scorpius and Theodora wanted you and Miss Granger-Weasley to have time to speak with me regarding the project."

"I'm sure Thea would rather we weren't here invading her space at all," James teases and he's surprised when Draco doesn't even try to hide his smile.

"I must admit, I was very surprised to get a letter from your parents agreeing to allow you to come. I'm sure you must know your father and I didn't exactly...get on….during our time at school."

"He might have mentioned it," Jame replies as they head down a few steps towards a part of the house he's yet to see.

James is momentarily taken aback as they enter a hallway and immediately he sets his eyes on a doorway into what he knows now must be the aforementioned greenhouse. It's not what he expected to see as Draco waves his wand, opening the door for the both of them. James' eyes wander around the large space. He's surrounded immediately in green. So many different varieties of plants fill the large space. They hang from the glass and bronze, they're buried in various planters both high and low from the ground.

The sound of water trickles through the room and he sees the center of the room is a large shallow pool with a light trickling fountain. He can immediately understand the peacefulness of it all.

Rose is at the table that is amongst several vining plants. The vines seem to be on their best behavior.

"Mr. Malfoy," she says, standing quickly.

"Good Morning, Miss Granger-Weasley," Draco replies.

Rose's cheeks are pink as she settles herself back into the chair. She, like James, continues to look around in awe as plates and glasses float into the room delicately in one elegant stream of magic.

"I've had some time to read about Sandwith Hall's history," Rose says. James is certain he sees Draco smirk slightly. If anything, Rose is certainly her mother's daughter. "I was most fascinated by how it was acquired by the Greengrass family. Is it true that the manor was won in a duel?"

Draco smiles and nods. "Yes, my wife certainly enjoyed telling the story. Her grandfather was, from what I've been told, quite the magical historian. He travelled all around England and Scotland, collecting properties and artifacts that had been known to harbor particular significance in wizarding history. When he came across Sandwith Hall, it was owned by a couple who he had traced through a long lineage of Morgan le Fay."

Rose's eyes widened.

"You mean this house was built by ancestors of Morgana?" she asks, eyeing it again in a new light.

"Well, I'm still not entirely convinced, though that was his assessment. He immediately offered a price for the property, well above what it was perhaps worth. But the couple refused him. After the twelfth time, the husband offered the house if Astoria's grandfather could defeat him in a duel. Astoria said he not only defeated the man, but turned him into a nazzle mumph. Apparently there was a large infestation for years. Astoria recalls the summer they were finally relocated."

"He turned the man into a nazzle mumph? I don't recall that from the book," Rose says, her brow furrowed.

"Well it isn't the proudest of memories. If it is true, I doubt the Greengrass family would have liked for it to be public knowledge."

"Aunt Hermione said that Malfoy Manor passed to you after the war," James says. The lightness seems to drain from Draco's eyes slowly. "Why did you not raise the family there."

"I didn't have very fond memories growing up there," the man replies, a far off look in his eyes. "When I met Astoria and we decided to get married, I knew I wanted to keep her as far away from that place as I could."

James nods, realizing the topic is tough but it is part of their past and he is trying to understand the larger picture that is this Malfoy family that suddenly seems so strange to him.

"I saw a portrait of your family upstairs," James continues. He can see Rose's disapproving glare but Draco seems to already know which direction the conversation is going and nods.

"Yes, and I'm sure in it you noticed that Scorpius and Theodora once had a brother," Draco adds.

Rose's eyes widen at this and James wonders if perhaps Scorpius hasn't told her either.

"Cygnus was my first son. He was extremely bright and mischievous," Draco says, a fond smile on his lips. "Theodora admired him, did everything he did. She is so much like he was." There is a slight pause. James can feel the weight of the conversation change and he hates that he brought it up. "He fell ill shortly after his tenth birthday. The doctors still can't be sure what the issue was but Astoria believed it was the hereditary blood curse that ran through her family."

"I...I didn't realize," says James.

Draco shakes his head.

"I assume the children don't speak of him. It was hard for them, Theodora in particular. Then after their mother…" Draco doesn't finish the sentence.

James realizes his misstep and glances to Rose immediately clears her throat to chime in.

"Scorpius tells me he has so many happy memories here growing up," she says, her attempt to lighten the conversation.

"Happy Memories? My brother?" a voice says from behind them. James turns to see Thea standing there with Scorpius. "I didn't take you for a liar, brother mine."

Thea takes a seat to James' left, sitting between him and her father. Scorpius sits to Rose's right wearing a deep frown on his lips.

"Well he told me about the pear orchard for one," Rose continues, visibly bothered by Scorpius' sudden change in mood.

"The pear orchard?" James asks.

Thea chuckles, taking a bite of the toast on her plate. She's still chewing when she says, "the one Papa had cut down? It used to be right out there," she says, pointing out the windows where a line of what look like dirigible plum trees now sit in staggered lines.

"I couldn't keep her away from them, no matter the effects to her health," Draco replies. When he sees James' confused expression he laughs. "Theodora has an allergy. She was forbidden from eating pears and yet Scorpius would find her stuffing her face with them despite the rashes that would ensue."

"Rashes?" James mouths to her.

She rolls her eyes, doing her best to keep a straight face as she pinches his leg beneath the table. James bites the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

"Better believe the first healing spell I perfected was for said allergies," she said with a shrug.

James sees Marta approach with two others carrying a few small trays of food. Theodora grabs the woman's hand and pulled her gently towards her lap and says something in Romanian that causes Draco to cough to cover his own laugh.

"You are not too old for a wooden spoon," the woman says in English, pulling her hand away.

"Marta!" Thea says, her laughter voiced in mock innocence. "We have guests!"

"Guests or no, Theodora, I will put you over my knee." The woman's threats are half laced in laughter.

Thea grabs the woman's hand, placing it to her lips and says another bout of smooth Romanian that causes the woman to blush furiously and she pinches Thea's cheek.

"Your daughter is a little monster, sir," she says to Draco with a grin.

"Unfortunately so, Marta," he replies. "How you put up with her, I'll never know."

James likes Thea's smile, the childish way she clings to Marta who is clearly more family than staff. He has never seen her behave like this and he wonders if it's this place or if she's always been like this somewhere beneath the snark and sneers.

She pours the tea for her father, then James, then herself before whisking her wand to pour for Scorpius and Rose across the table who are out of her reach.

"So Scorpius also told me about your Christmas tradition," Rose says as she pulls a piece of bread onto her plate and reaches for the jam.

"Oh, Rose…" Scorpius says softly and it's the first time he's spoken since he sat down.

She simply smiles and continues. "He says go abroad every year. How you spin the globe to pick a place. Does that only happen on Christmas morning or do you pick before?"

"Actually what happens is…" Draco starts but Scorpius cuts in with a scoff.

"Does it really matter?" Scorpius says. Silence floods the table. "I mean, since we're not doing Christmas this year and all."

"Scorpius," Thea hisses, playfulness gone from her eyes as she lowers the teacup from her lips.

"This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation, son," Draco replies but his words aren't full of malice, only shame.

Scorpius stands up, throwing his napkin on the table and storms off back into the house. Thea follows without wasting a second, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. On the other side of the glass door, James watches her grab hold of her brother's hand. He spins around but the doors close and he can't hear what they are saying, only that there are shouts. Draco too is eyeing them and sighs heavily as Thea places her hands on either side of her brother's face.

"I apologise," Draco says. "I am afraid I've ruined the festivities. A habit of mine, it would seem."

"I don't understand," Rose says, her voice quiet.

Her eyes glance back at the two figures arguing, Thea's calm words and Scorpius' hands around her wrists where her hands still rest on his face. He doesn't attempt to remove them but she's saying something that softens his features.

"I have to go away on business," answers Draco.

"At Christmas?" she asks, her voice soft.

"Yes, unfortunately it is something that cannot wait," he replied, his eyes falling.

His hands brush through his hair and they rest there for many moments as he leans into his elbows. James doesn't know how to break the silence as he watches this man lose all the light that was previously in his ice-colored eyes.

James remembers the conversation he'd overheard, the desperation in Draco's voice and how Thea pleaded for him to stay. For Scorpius. But it isn't about business, or at least he suspects it's not, which explains the guilt-ridden expression on Draco's face and why Thea is trying to hard to calm Scorpius. James has never seen him so upset or Thea so soft. It's a role reversal that surprises him.

"Where will they go?" Rose asks, bringing James back to the conversation. "For Christmas? Do you have family they could see."

"Unfortunately my wife's family has made other arrangements. Her sister just recently remarried and they are spending the season abroad. I can't imagine they'd appreciate the interruption of their honeymoon," Draco says, some bitterness in his tone. "But Scorpius and Thea will be ok on their own. I was going to ask Marta if she would look after them, she's close with the children. In fact, I doubt they'll notice that I'm gone."

"They could stay with us," James blurts out before he realizes what he is saying.

Both Rose and Draco look at him with baffled expressions.

"Sorry, what?" Draco asked.

"I uh...I just meant. Our family..." he says slowly, motioning to Rose. He can feel himself panicking with every word. "Well there are quite a lot of us, as I'm sure you know. And well...my gran loves company. More the merrier, she always says. Doesn't she always say that Rose?"

"Yes, I suppose she does?" she replies, narrowed eyes. He can tell she's just as confused as Draco.

"I think that would be quite the imposition," Draco says.

"What would?" Scorpius asks, rejoining the group. Thea is close behind him, her hand still in his.

"Mr. Potter here, has just extended an invitation for you both to stay with their family for Christmas," Draco says.

"James," says Thea abruptly, looking down at him with furrowed brows. He's momentarily taken aback by her use of his given name. "Why would you do that?"

"Well I just...I dunno, I thought maybe since both of you were going to come for Easter holiday anyways, why not get it out of the way. And...it's Christmas and all."

"I'm not entirely sure your parents would appreciate the last minute addition," Draco says, shaking his head.

"I can assure you it would be fine," Rose adds in James' defense. For the first time he feels himself exhale. "My gran really does love guests, especially at Christmas. And Albus, well he certainly wouldn't mind, would he?"

Draco glances from Rose to James and then finally to his children. Both are wearing completely different expressions. Scorpius is still jaw-clenched, looking to the table at nothing in particular. Thea is all furrowed brows and confusion as she stares at James.

"Well?" Draco asks. Thea's attention snaps to his. "What do you think?"

"Papa…you can't be serious?"

"I know you two don't get along," nodding towards James who tries not to glance at Thea. "But Albus will be there. You've always wanted to visit with him during the holidays."

"I'm not sure this was what I had in mind," she replies, glancing to her brother. "But, if Scorpius wants to, then yes, ok."

"Scorpius?" Draco asks, his voice is cautious.

"Fine," he answers abruptly and turns quickly from the table. "I'll pack."

He walks off, or perhaps it's more like storming, and Thea quickly follows, allowing one glance back at James as she shakes her head.

"Well then, I suppose I should reach out to your parents. They are likely sick of hearing from me these days."

It is an attempt at humor and so both James and Rose laughed politely as Draco rose from the table and excused himself to his study. When they are alone Rose lets out a breath and James finds one that he doesn't realize he's been holding.

"What...the bloody hell just happened?" Rose asks.

"I think...I invited the Malfoys to spend Christmas with us," James replies.

There is a long silence before both of them erupt into laughter.

* * *

 **THEA**

Thea isn't entirely sure what to wear to the Potters', having never been once in her entire life. She knows they are casual people and likely won't mind whatever she chooses but she takes great care in planning her wardrobe to make sure she doesn't perpetuate the image they already have of her.

Her heart is pounding as she fidgets with her overnight bag. It doesn't stop until she feels James' hand over hers and she flinches slightly, looking around to see they are alone. Scorpius is still upstairs packing with Rose.

Her father is gone, leaving two small packages with green ribbons on the table in the foyer.

"This is a terrible idea," she whispers, letting her eyes meet his.

He's looking at her like he did the night before. It doesn't help make her relax as she remembers his words, the way he touched her, the way it's not just her body that responds to his nearness anymore.

"I'm sorry," he replies. "I thought I was helping. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that, I just didn't like thought of you…."

"Shh," she urges, her finger over her mouth. He lowers his voice.

"I didn't like the thought of you alone for Christmas."

Those words pull at her and she reminds herself to breathe. His hand is warm and comforting and it's all the more reason they shouldn't be doing this. Things are dangerously close to changing and she doesn't think she can handle change. Not now. Especially now.

"Do you realize what this means?" she asks him, pulling her hand away. "Albus is going to be there, your whole bloody family is going to be there. Things are different and it's going to be pretty obvious that we don't hate each other anymore when we aren't at each other's throats for the next three days."

"Why are you so worried about this?" he asks. "If I promise to keep my distance, will it make you feel better?"

"Will you actually keep your distance?" she asked and he smirked. "See? You can't even take this seriously."

"I'm sorry, I am. I really am," he apologised. "I really will keep my distance. As much as it pains me. I know how much my brother means to you and I won't fuck that up, I promise."

"This is a mess. Scorpius is devastated. All because of me."

She curses herself when she realizes what she's said aloud. Unfortunately, James notices the word choice.

"What do you mean, because of you?" he asks and she shrugs.

"I told Papa it was ok to go," she lies and it's so easy she actually feels bad when she sees the concern in James' eyes. "I should have insisted he stayed."

"Maybe whatever he's doing really is important."

She looks away. She's sick of hearing those words.

"It's not," she whispers. "Not more important than Scorpius."

"Thea…"

The sound of her name on his tongue is inviting and she knows for sure this whole thing is going to be a bigger challenge than she expected.

"Madame," Patrick's voice interrupts and though she's not standing close to him she takes another step back from James for good measure.

"Yes?" she asks, clearing her throat.

"Your…" Patrick pauses as his eyes flicker to James briefly. "Your grandparents have just arrived. They are in the sitting room."

Thea's brows crease as she cocks her head slightly.

"I thought they were in Prague visiting Uncle Andrew?" she asks. She shrugs, perking slightly and smiles. "Did Granny bring that delicious lemon cake I love?" she asks but Patrick doesn't smile back. There is a distinct discomfort in the way his eye contact falters. She slowly realizes why and her body goes rigid. "Right. Okay," she says nodding.

Her posture immediately straightens and she looks down the red knitted turtleneck tucked into her denim trousers and she sighs. She pulls her winter coat off and drapes it over the staircase railing.

"Should I ask them to leave?" asks Patrick. She shakes her head.

"No. Just...find Scorpius, please?" she asks Patrick, her voice stiff in her throat and he nods sharply. She turns then to James and steps in towards him, the the space she previously vacated. She doesn't even check to see if Patrick is out of sight before she places her hand against his chest and looks up at him, her gaze trying to leech that comfort back out of his warm brown eyes. "Please," she says and it's a whisper but she can feel her voice shaking as she says it. "Please, just….stay here."

He places his hand over hers but it's only for a brief second before she lets hers slide away. She walks away, leaving him in the foyer as she rounds the corner down the hall.

The corridor is long but it seems as though it has grown shorter as she looks for the third door on the right. She stands outside the door for a long time, her fingers hovering over the handle. She can't go in until she breathes but suddenly it's as if her lungs no longer work. She can't pull in breath. She can't push it out. Her heartbeat is loud in her chest and in the silence of the corridor. The only sound is the pounding beneath her ribcage and the muffled sounds on the other side of the heavy door.

She has to pull herself together. She knows this. This is no different than school, no different than being the person everyone expects. With that in mind, she forces air into her lungs and opens the door.

The sitting room is rarely used anymore. It was her mother's space. Thea hasn't told her brother or father that at nights she can't sleep, she sneaks down to this room and falls asleep on the floor like she would as a child.

When she enters the room this time it's not her mother sitting in the blue armchair.

"Gran," she says, her voice steady as she forces herself into a calm. "Grandfather," she adds, the tone altered only slightly as she glances the man in her mother's chair with a sour expression on his contorted mouth.

"Hello, darling," her grandmother says, it's not stiff but there is relief in it as if perhaps she thought Thea wouldn't show. Thea wonders now if that was an option.

Narcissa Malfoy is a regal woman. As a child Thea used to be mesmerized by the woman's beauty. Time has changed her and perhaps so has circumstance. Her father rarely speaks to either of his parents and the only things Thea has ever heard of them are stories that once haunted her dreams.

She doesn't even look at her grandfather.

"He's not here," Thea says firmly to them both.

"Patrick told us," Narcissa answers.

She stepped closer and Thea willed herself not to move as the woman took her hands in her own. She leaned in, kissing her cheek lightly and attempted a warm smile. But everything about Narcissa Malfoy screamed tragedy.

"You know he wouldn't be pleased, knowing you've seen us without him here," she says.

"I know, but it's nearly Christmas and, well I just thought it would be nice to see you and Scorpius. That's all," the woman answers. A scoff comes from the blue armchair and Thea finally lets her eyes fall on the man who is the reason their family name is spit on in many circles.

"That's why you're here?" she asks but it's directed at her grandfather. He doesn't meet her gaze. "To see me? Or perhaps it is to attempt, once again to put me in my place, where I belong."

This time, icy grey eyes lock with her own.

"Theodora," Narcissa pleads. "Please don't do this."

"And why not?" she asks. "That's all he ever has to say, to me anyways."

"Watch your tone, girl," Lucius says and Thea feels her jaw clench.

"Come," Narcissa insists, tugging on Thea and they face away from Lucius' cold glare. "Tell me about the gala. I heard it was lovely."

"From who?" Thea asks.

"Savannah Earstwhile," Narcissa says. "I ran into her in town. She said it was simply magnificent."

"It was suitable," was all Thea could muster.

"Darling," says Narcissa. Her voice is bordering on warm though her hands still feel cold as ice in Thea's. "I'm sure it was more than suitable."

"It would have been better had a third of the guests showed up rather than let our family name skew their attendance," Thea replied.

There is only silence. Narcissa's eyes close.

" _Our_ family name?" Lucius mutters from the blue chair.

Thea's nails dig into her palms.

There is no avoiding it now.

* * *

 **SCORPIUS**

When Scorpius enters the foyer, there is visible tension in Marta's eyes. James paces the room, eyes dancing towards the corridor with every few steps and something tells him whatever this impatience is, it has nothing to do with leaving. Rose's hand is still in his and the momentary joy he felt in her comfort is immediately extinguished.

"Did Patrick send you?" Marta asks, walking over to him quickly.

"No, we were outside," he replies. "Why was he looking for me? Is everything alright?"

Marta lowers her voice, and speaking in Romanian she says, "Theodora sent him to find you after he told her your grandparents were in the sitting room."

"My grandparents?" he asks, his Romanian garnering a curious look from Rose at his side. He lets go over her hand quickly and Marta nods. "Where is she?"

"She went to greet them."

"Alone?!" he asks, eyes widening.

Patrick descends the steps. He too is quick to slip into Marta's Romanian tongue.

"It's my fault. I thought she would wait until I'd found you," replies Patrick.

Scorpius shakes his head. James' pacing stops and he waits for an explanation. Scorpius doesn't indulge him, however, and turns only to Rose as he says in English, "I'm so sorry. Please, stay here. I'll be right back."

"What's going on?" she asks.

"Please, Rose."

She nods.

Scorpius doesn't waste another moment lingering as he walks quickly down the corridor in long strides. The third door on the right can't come soon enough and he yanks the door open to find Thea standing at their grandmother's side. Their grandfather is standing, shouting down at Thea who clenches her hands into small fists at her side.

They all look up as he enters the room but Scorpius rushes forward to place himself between Thea and Lucius. Thea grips his hand slightly, urging him to move back but he doesn't budge.

"Well, it seems you've also decided to grace us with your presence," Lucius muttered.

"Had I known you were here, I would have ensured you'd have seen neither one of us," he replies.

"It's no matter to me," he says, gesturing to his wife who stands, disappointment growing in her tired eyes.

"Scorpius," Narcissa whispers, stepping towards her. He makes no move to go to her or return her embrace.

"What did he say to you?" he says over his shoulder to Thea. Again she tries to tug him back but he doesn't move.

"Nothing," she says quietly.

"Theodora," Scorpius replies sternly.

"Nothing worth even mentioning," she insists.

"You're not supposed to be here," Scorpius says, glancing back at his grandparents. "Father will hear of this."

"Oh?" Lucius snarls. "And what do you think he'll do about it? For that matter, boy, what do _you_ plan to do about it?"

"You're not worth my time at all," Scorpius mutters. "Or hers," he said, gesturing to his sister.

He grabs Thea with intent to leave. His grandfather's response stops him in his tracks.

"Weak," scoffs Lucius.

"Lucius!" Narcissa hisses.

Thea's hand tightens against his. She tries to keep walking, urging him silently to ignore the man who looms over them so easily. But he doesn't move.

"What!? Look at him. He's weak! Just like his father. Just like his…" Scorpius is ready to lose his composure if he finishes the sentence but he doesn't have a chance when Thea interrupts.

"Don't call him that," says Thea, her voice rising as she spins around.

"Don't mumble, Theodora," Lucius says after a long pause. His lip curls at the girl who speaks out at him. "If you're going to be indignant, at least have the courtesy to enunciate"

"Apologies," Thea says through her teeth. "I thought I was quite...clear."

"Lucius, please. Let's go," Narcissa urges but he brushes her arm off of him as he steps closer.

"I told you to watch your tone, girl."

"And I told you, you weren't welcome here," she answers.

"You presume to tell me that I'm not welcome? You, the stain on this family's reputation? You want to pretend your words have any weight here?"

Scorpius is the one squeezing Thea's hand as the words hit hard.

"Lucius!" Narcissa shouts, this time her voice carries across the room. "That is _enough_."

"You too?!" He shouts to his wife. "You always coddled our cowardly son and now you stand between me and his pathetic offspring. This never would have happened if you hadn't let him marry that blood-cursed wh-"

Scorpius thinks he's never pulled his wand faster than he has in that moment.

Somehow, Thea is faster.

"Children," Narcissa urges, desperation heavy in her voice. "Please."

The silence weighs heavy in the room. Thea's steps are slow but calculated as she crosses the room. She steps in front of Scorpius, directly between the two men and he doesn't see it, but he can feel the fire in her eyes.

"Don't...speak about our mother," says Thea, her voice as hard as stone. "Don't speak about our father," she says, taking a step closer. "And don't ever...speak about my brother again," she says, her wand pointed directly under Lucius' chin.

He stares down at her.

"Play pretend all you want, little one. You will never belong," he whispers, his voice low. "You will always be this family's shame. Utterly unwanted and unworthy of the name Malfoy."

"No," she whispered, her voice firm. "That would be you."

Her chest heaves. He can see the flames in her eyes as she stands there and he fears what she'll do if the man provokes her further.

"Leave," Scorpius says, not bothering to stand on ceremony.

Narcissa doesn't wait to be asked again before she places her hand on her husband's shoulder.

They apparate with tiniest pop.

It's several moments of silence before a broken sigh leave's Thea's lungs and he turns to face her for the first time since entering the room. Her eyes close as she stands there, steading her breathing and he glances down to her hands. One is still wrapped tightly around her wand, the other, palm open, is red with blood. He reached out to her, grabbing her hand in his and noticing the blood is from her fingernails digging into her flesh and she jerks it away from him.

"Don't," she whispers curtly.

When she opens her eyes they do not meet his, and she heads for the door.

* * *

 **ROSE**

The tension in the room grows with every passing minute that they are forced to stand there and wait. James is biting his nails and pacing while Marta speaks in hushed whispers to Patrick as they keep glancing towards the door where Scorpius disappeared.

James' pacing causes her unease to escalate and she's not entirely certain what's got him so worked up. She keeps thinking back to the table, how he and Thea have behaved so civilly during their time here and she remembers what Roxy said to her back at school.

She wouldn't have thought anything of it until the way Thea said "James" at brunch and she wonders why that bothers her so much. It wasn't said with spite, but something else entirely. James' eyes are glued to the hall now, watching and waiting with the same expression burnt into his features that Rose feels upon her own.

She just doesn't understand why.

A door slams down the hall and Rose jumps involuntarily as her head spins in its direction. She hears the muffled arguments, the curt remarks through clenched teeth, and when the two Malfoy siblings emerge, Thea is pulling her arm away from Scorpius' grasp.

"I'm fine," she says, not bothering to hide the impatience. Scorpius keeps pleading in Romanian. Marta and Patrick follow as well as Thea starts up the stairs at a near run, her flats clicking against the steps. She only stops to whirl around when she realizes she's still being followed. "I said I'm fine! I just need a minute!"

No one follows her up though there is obvious guilt in Scorpius' eyes as he watches her flee. Several more footsteps later Rose hears the door to Thea's bedroom close and there is a muffled crash. Another follows only moments after and Rose flinches a the sound.

James takes one step towards the staircase but stops short. Rose notices there is conflict in his eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" he asks, glancing over at Scorpius who is still looking up to where Thea has disappeared.

"My grandparents," Scorpius says quietly. "They weren't supposed to be here, especially when my father isn't here. He'll be furious when he finds out."

"And Thea?" Rose asks. Scorpius pulls his gaze away finally and lets his eyes settle on her. "Was he unkind to her?" she asks, remembering Scorpius' story about his grandfather.

"Thea…" he starts, shaking his head and he lets out a strained breath. "Saying my grandfather isn't a kind man would be an understatement. He's cruel. The things he says to her…"

He doesn't elaborate and Marta is grumbling under her breath, refusing to adhere to standing at the base of the steps and she starts up them, holding her robes up as she takes each one.

Rose realizes why Scorpius stops his conversation short. She remembers the rumors again, the stories that even her parents had muttered in half-curious whispers years ago when Rose was too young to understand their absurdity. But Scorpius' features are still warped and furrowed and she doesn't know what else to say except to place her hand on his shoulder.

When her eyes meet his, he lets out a long breath.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he whispers, his voice tired and for the first time she realizes he's shaking.

"Scorpius..." she says.

"They weren't supposed to be here," he says again.

"What did he say?" James asks from behind them and Scorpius tenses beneath her touch.

"Nothing worth repeating," Scorpius grumbles and runs his hands through is hair.

For a moment, the action reminds Rose of Draco at the table during brunch. The frustration is there but so is the guilt. Whatever Lucius said in that room has stripped the warmth from Sandwith Hall.

"Scorpius," she says again, her voice soft. His eyes meet hers and he lets out a long breath. She nods. "Let's just go." His brow furrows. "Go get Thea and we'll leave all of this behind us. Aunt Ginny promised tea would be ready when we arrive."

He doesn't speak but he nods as he turns and walks slowly up the stairs. Rose can hear when he knocks on Thea's bedroom door but there are only muffled words from where he speaks through the door. It must open a crack because Rose hears it close again and Magnus bounds down the stairs.

She watches the cat who slows at the base of the staircase and looks up at Rose. He rubs against her leg once before passing her up for James on the other side of the room. James is now sitting in the armchair by the hearth, watching as the yule log crackles and pops. Magnus brushes up against him twice before he notices and he reaches down to pet the poor thing that meows for his attention.

"Thea says that means he likes you," she says, breaking the silence.

James doesn't look up, only watches Magnus pounce up onto his lap and he scratches the cat's head.

"I can't imagine she'd like that very much," he replies, but it's soft and not full of sarcasm as she'd imagined.

"James," she says, glancing once up towards the empty staircase then back at her cousin. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" he asks, looking up with his brow furrowed.

"Is there something going on with Thea?" she asks slowly and though he doesn't meet her eyes he shakes his head. "Then why have you two been acting so….different."

"I think civil is the word you're looking for, Rosie," he says but his tone carries a bite.

"Okay….civil then. What's with the civility?" she asks. "And I don't mean just now, Roxy's noticed it too. You're different lately."

"And what's so wrong with that?" he asks, still petting Magnus who starts to pur.

"Nothing," she says, a defeated sigh. "I am just trying to understand. Your parents are worried."

"They were worried about Albus too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs, leaning back into the chair. His eyes are on the yule log again as he pets Magnus who has settled into his lap. The cat's eyes close slowly, his purring loud. He nudges James' hand every time the petting stops. James seems happy to oblige him.

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" he asks slowly. "I do everything they expect from me and it never seems enough."

"You're throwing a pity party because your parents don't understand you?"

"My dad wants me to be like him. But I'm not. Hell, Albus is more like him than I am."

"He wants you to find some direction," Rose contradicts. "There's a difference."

"That's easy for you. You've always wanted to go and work at the Ministry like your mum. Albus wants to train Dragons like Uncle Charlie and even Lily knows she was meant to play Quidditch like our mum."

"What does any of this have to do with the way you've been acting around Thea?" she asks, refusing to let him evade her question and he shakes his head.

"All of it," he says. "I'm tired of this Potter and Malfoy bullocks. I'm tired of fighting about everything and nothing at all. I'm just...tired."

She isn't entirely sure she understands, but she has a feeling it's better to just drop it when she sees the far of look in his eyes. She knows a thing or two about expectations in her own home. Her father still isn't happy about Scorpius no matter how much he tries to hide it. She suspects her mother has something to do with why he no longer brings it up in letters. It's part of why she'd been so taken aback at James' proposal to host the Malfoys for Christmas.

Having Scorpius around her family suddenly makes her realize why Thea had been so hesitant to bring them to Sandwith Hall. And yet, there is something about the grand house that makes Rose wonder if it isn't something else that Thea wants to hide from everyone else. She's seen it in the girl's smile and laughter and the sheer relaxed expression she wore prior to her grandparents' visit.

A door closes somewhere upstairs, this time not as loudly, and steps and whispers resonate through the upstairs corridor. Thea and Scorpius are walking down the steps of the staircase, Patrick and Marta close behind them.

Thea's broken expression is replaced with one she was more familiar with, cool indifference. Scorpius seems only mildly satisfied and eyes his sister carefully as they both say their goodbyes to Marta and Patrick with hugs. Marta stops Thea before she can pull away and lifts her chin. Her Romanian spills out in a warm whisper of words that makes the corners of Thea's mouth turn up ever so slightly.

James' eyes are no longer on the fire as Thea approaches him. Rose watches them carefully, but Thea glances down only at Magnus as she lifts him into her arms and kisses his head.

"Little traitor," she says. "You don't happen to be allergic to cats do you, Jamie?"

Rose swears she sees James holding back a smile.

* * *

x


End file.
